Laws of Attraction
by Major Roon
Summary: After several encounters, Brenda begins to question her and Raydor's relationship and comes to realize that there's more between them than mere animosity. Some Brenda/Fritz, mostly Brenda/Sharon in its early stages  for now. Read Spoiler Warning!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Spoilers: Heavy for episode 503 "Red Tape". **

**Author's Note: **This is my first time writing The Closer even though I've been playing with the idea for some time now. The main reason I started Laws of Attraction was that I needed a break from the epic CSI fic I'm currently writing. I thought that I needed something short, something different to get my juices flowing again but here I am once again, dealing with epic proportions. Old habits die hard.

Well. On to the first chapter…

Laws of Attraction

**Chapter One:**

_Red Tape_

Have you ever met someone you were utterly attracted to from the very moment you first laid eyes on them?

Someone whose presence made you feel weak, feverish and dizzy.

Someone you could barely look at without feeling your heart pounding within your chest and your hands shaking because your blood was boiling and pulsing in your veins.

Have you ever met someone you desired so much that being around them almost had you falling apart?

Brenda had.

"Captain Raydor."

It was then when her eyes were trapped in a brief yet intense connection with alert, green ones, when she caught her first close-up glimpse, the very first whiff of the woman's scent, heard her clear, concise speech in that controlled, deliberate tone of voice, was able to appraise her posture and take in the energy Captain Sharon Raydor exuded that Brenda felt breathless.

Raydor was 'the other one', the only other woman running a division within the LAPD and she must know who Brenda was, there was no doubt in her mind but still she had been ignored. It was right down to business, the Captain made that very clear and Brenda felt irritated at being overlooked so purposefully.

But Raydor was a woman and Brenda hoped, suspected, that she might still be met with the solidarity of a fellow female officer.

She was sorely disappointed.

Raydor was hard, accustomed to the male world she had decided to earn her living in and she dared trying to establish her own superiority over Brenda, her dominance, tried to rip control over this situation right out of Brenda's hands and claim this investigation, Sergeant Gabriel, that very room, everything, as her own.

She damn near succeeded, Brenda had to give her that, yet her subconscious chose the very unfortunate tactic that most men, who had ever felt intimidated or threatened by her, had chosen to reestablish their superiority with.

Brenda pulled rank.

She instantly knew that she had lost this round and not with her dignity intact.

And that woman didn't even seem fazed.

* * *

It was early the next day that Brenda pulled a black blazer from her closet; she hadn't worn it in a long time because she thought it made her look stern and unapproachable which wasn't often useful when interrogating certain personages. She also pulled her hair up, thinking of _that woman_…Captain Raydor, and immediately her stomach was up in knots.

She had dared schedule a meeting with Pope to which Brenda had only been invited that morning, almost as an afterthought.

She wasn't surprised to find Raydor already waiting for them casually leaning against the wall next to Pope's office. Brenda felt her blood simmering beneath her skin as she spotted her, as Raydor looked at her with that barely-there smirk.

Some people smiled as a defense mechanism but Brenda wasn't sure about Raydor – did she do it to mask her own feelings of inadequacy, her fear of being looked at and actually seen or was she just plain good at reading Brenda and had realized early on how much it irritated the blonde?

"After you, Captain," Brenda said brightly and caught yet another faint whiff of the woman, it made her falter for a moment and forget about what an awful person to deal with she was…

…until Raydor delivered her report on last night's events and the subsequent deception by none other than Commander Taylor himself.

She had to hand it to him though, Taylor didn't mind implying that he had been drunk – confess to a smaller crime and it might cover up the much bigger one you committed.

Brenda's eyes traveled back to Raydor; no glasses today and she wore a skirt, of course she did, that woman. She should've worn a skirt, Brenda thought, not the dress because that blazer did not make her look stern and unapproachable enough considering with whom she had to deal with.

Brenda stared at Raydor again, it wasn't something she could help – like some people couldn't stop looking at the train wreck, it was the same thing, just that Brenda felt more anger than shock and devastation; though she did feel a sense of morbid fascination.

How could that woman be so calm? Brenda stared at her lips as they moved and formed words with undoubtedly careful consideration.

She had to stop! "Well, regardless, Eric Whitner is in stable condition. Sergeant Gabriel has met with his counsel and given a statement. The only thing outstandin' is the homicide of a newspaper vendor which no one is allowed to investigate."

"Chief." Raydor turned to Pope again. "I have spent the night familiarizing myself with Major Crimes-really, really impressive-I find no instance in which they've investigated the murder of a newspaper vendor, whereas the shooting of an unarmed civilian by an LAPD officer incurs serious liability-"

Brenda felt red, hot anger slowly boiling its way to the surface but the prep-talk she had given herself that morning, that she would not lose control when faced with Raydor again because she could ill afford it, kept her from exploding. "Well, it can't take priority over a homicide." She was right, Brenda knew that, Taylor knew that, Pope had to know that, everyone, except that woman who was actually convinced that she was right.

"And perhaps Captain Raydor would like to tell Mr. Parsall's family that-"

"Chief Johnson is trying to combine my officer involved shooting with her investigation to-"

"I'm sorry. Captain? Are you interrupting me?" She was pushing the woman's buttons. It had taken Brenda some time to figure it out but there was something rather intentional about Raydor's calm way of speaking; perhaps she didn't want to be the hysterical woman, perhaps she just despised having to raise her voice but it was pretty clear to the blonde that Raydor needed her time to speak, needed to be heard and when that did not happen, Raydor seemed to lose control over things rather quickly.

Brenda felt exhilaration sweep over her, she felt as if the fire within herself was about to be extinguished, a moment of satisfaction approaching. "Are you interrupting me?"

"I must go first!" Raydor exploded. "My investigation must go first!"

So there, thought Brenda, the feelings were mutual after all then.

There was her satisfaction.

Raydor pulled herself together, unfazed by her own outburst, and narrowed her eyes almost imperceptibly at Brenda. "These attempts to pull rank are embarrassing, unacceptable and potentially an obstruction of justice. I have a federally mandated responsibility to determine why an LAPD officer discharged his weapon which supersedes Chief Johnson's objections as well as yours…sir…if it comes to that."

"It won't." Pope said.

"Thank you."

Brenda rolled her eyes inwardly. There she was, winning again. That woman, that woman, that horrible, terrible woman!

"Clearly Chief Johnson wants to combine her murder with my investigation in order to protect a well-liked member of her division." Raydor had that smile on her face again and Brenda was pretty sure that the woman knew what an effect it had on the Deputy Chief; Raydor just managed to shake her confidence like that.

"…I…will not allow to have my professional conduct questioned like that, especially when all I asked Captain Raydor to do was to move her red tape just a few feet to the left so I can properly begin searchin' for a murderer."

In the end, it was all just a pissing contest, wasn't it?

"Chief Johnson, you and Captain Raydor will share the crime scene and the witnesses…"

Brenda felt her heart beating its way out of her chest. Work with the woman? A heat-wave seemed to roll right over her – all she wanted was to get as far away from her as possible. She wouldn't get anything done like this.

And then, after all the animosity they had inspired in each other in just a couple hours' time, Raydor had the nerve to offer the solidarity Brenda had anticipated but not gotten in the very beginning.

"Chief Johnson, wait." Even when she was calling out to people Raydor barely raised her voice. "I understand the urge to protect the people you work with and I respect it. But I'm obligated to investigate this shooting as if it were a criminal act."

That was the very thing Brenda had a problem with.

"And I would ask that you do nothing to jeopardize the success of my inquiry, that's all."

Well. Maybe she should give that woman a taste of her own medicine – right down to business. "You stay out of my way, Captain and I stay out of yours."

Raydor straightened and pulled on her blazer. "I tried," she said as if she had just thrown herself into the sword like a martyr and walked away, right past Brenda who felt something bubbling up within herself.

Even the way she walked! Mechanically somehow. Brenda's eyes trailed lower.

At least her hips moved.

"…she can carry a grudge."

Brenda caught the last part of Taylor's sentence. "Well, then she better get ready for some heavy liftin'."

For some reason Brenda couldn't entirely explain her reaction; it wasn't like she hadn't had to work with people whom she couldn't stand before. It was just something about Raydor that made Brenda want to turn around and avoid at all costs.

It was almost as bad as thinking about Kitty, her poor, poor Kitty.

* * *

It was over now and Brenda, even though she hated to admit it, couldn't be more relieved to finally be rid of Raydor.

On the other hand she felt a twinge of disappointment. Finally somebody she didn't really have to be nice to; polite, yes. Nice? Not so much.

Finally somebody who prompted her to feel…to feel…

What exactly? Brenda wasn't sure. The woman irritated her, that much was obvious. She was also the cause of the huge, gigantic, buildup of frustration Brenda felt like a white, hot ball of fury threatening to implode and suck everyone and everything in her vicinity into its vortex.

Yet she couldn't help taking another jab at Raydor who would fire back, Brenda had no doubt about that.

"I do wanna express my appreciation for the insight you've given me into how FID functions. I've learned a great deal from your…single-minded approach."

There was her moment of satisfaction.

"And I've learned a great deal about your investigative technique as well, especially as it regards the LAPD's struggle to gain autonomy over its own affairs and I'll be including all of that in my final report…Chief."

"Oh, I can't wait to read that, Captain."

And the fire kept on burning.

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Spoilers: Heavy for episode 507 "Strike Three"**

**Author's Note: **I know it's going slow but I hope you guys bear with me.**  
**

**Chapter Two:**

**Strike Three**

Brenda had almost forgotten, yet when she stood in the middle of her crime scene and turned to face Raydor who had appeared there out of thin air, Brenda's body did remember quite vividly what response it had better have when confronted with the woman.

Brenda couldn't help it, Raydor was just somebody she could barely look at without feeling her heart pounding within her chest and her hands shaking because her blood was boiling and pulsing in her veins, leaving her feeling weak, feverish and dizzy.

The fire was back, ignited by the woman's mere presence.

It was late, it was cold, emotions were running high, and Raydor decided that it must be a good idea to waltz right into Brenda's space like she did. There was tension in the air; Flynn and Provenza, who were police officers through and through and felt a deep connection, a brotherhood with every other member on the force, were upset and angry, rightfully so.

Two officers of the LAPD had been killed in the line of duty, shot to death in the streets, left to die.

And Raydor thought that if she talked calmly enough, if she used big enough words, everyone would be alright with the fact that she had waltzed in there and had decided to question those officers' conduct.

Brenda was very aware that she was the only thing standing between Raydor and the lynch mob that would undoubtedly tear into her if the chance arose.

And yet, when she felt the woman's frustration mingling with her own, her even, short breaths joining hers in crystalline clouds, as she had to force herself to look the woman in the eye and immediately felt the repercussions, a wave of heat warming Brenda from the inside out, she knew that she could not deal with that.

She could not deal with that now and she knew, she saw, she felt, that Raydor was thinking the exact same thing.

* * *

It was the Whitner case all over again.

Just much, much worse.

Stealing evidence, withholding it, interfering with an ongoing investigation, and this time, Brenda thought, Raydor was the one obstructing justice, not her.

Arguing with her over every tiny, little technicality, over every single step taken along the way, was exhausting and it was wearing down Brenda's defenses.

And defenses she needed. The woman kept following her, tailing her, shadowing her, not to be outsmarted or worse, kept out of the loop and Brenda was doing her damned hardest to never end up alone with her. It had become her secondary mission. Fact was that Brenda couldn't think when Raydor was sneaking around; she tried blaming it on the mass of people occupying her murder room, they certainly weren't helping, but Raydor was doing a whole lot of different things to her.

"Let's be clear," the woman said, "under the best of circumstances leaving this car behind as a lure for Ted Kretshner guarantees a confrontation of some sort with police officers already lathered up into an angry mob. Have you thought about the consequences?"

Standing in front of Mrs. Kretshner's garage, Raydor's voice dropped to barely above a whisper, was the very first instance Brenda contemplated laying a hand on the woman. She wanted to reach out, put her hand on her throat and prevent her from questioning her methods further. Despite what Raydor thought, she was not capable of doing Brenda's job better than Brenda herself and once that woman would realize that, things would go decidedly more smoothly.

"Yes. And if we end up having to shoot this killer then the crime scene will be all yours, Captain."

When Brenda walked away because it was all she could do, her hand was shaking.

* * *

They were all cooped up in the observation room, staring at Ted Kretshner and Stomper, his partner in crime.

Unfortunately, the oh-so-pleasant Mr. Kretshner had resisted arrest and had ended up with what would soon turn into quite the shiner. He complained about it, had asked for a doctor and of course the oh-so-correct-and-by-the-book Captain Raydor had insisted that the time was perfect for a Use of Force investigation.

"Does anyone really think I wanna go in there? Anyone?"

Brenda didn't have to contemplate the question to know that the answer was 'no', plain and simple. In that moment she admired Raydor a little bit; Brenda's job involved bending the rules sometimes, it was necessary but for the proper execution of Raydor's job it was required that the rules were being followed and the woman did just that with rigorous attention to detail.

Even if that meant she had to read a suspect his rights and ruin every chance of getting another word out of him.

Ted Kretshner was a despicable human being, filled with hate and contempt, on his very own self-righteous mission that was both senseless and a waste of time, yet Raydor was adamant that he had the same rights as every other human being. Brenda had to admit that she was right – pretending not to see things was how Raydor had come to be there in the first place and it wouldn't do to have this case thrown out of court on a technicality.

A new plan formed in Brenda's head as she watched the Captain read Kretshner his rights; her voice was deadly calm, precise and quiet. She spoke slowly and evenly and Brenda knew from the little experience she had had with the woman that the slower, the calmer she spoke, the bigger the inner turmoil.

Raydor was disgusted.

Just like everybody else.

But Raydor did her job to the best of her abilities and not some half-assed version of it when she didn't like the set of rules she had to adhere to.

Of course that didn't mean Brenda had to be a fan of said set of rules as well. She went into every investigation with an open mind, not guilty until proven otherwise, the truth will set you free and so on but Raydor, she went in assuming the worst and that was morally questionable in the worst of ways.

* * *

Getting ready for a funeral took a lot of time when you were a police officer.

First Brenda took out her shoes and shined them the way she had learned as a little girl from her own father who used to shine his shoes almost every evening when he came home. She had been, and still was, very proud of her father, a retired Captain of the Army.

Next she took out her uniform and laid it on the bed; she took the plastic cover off, donned the pants and the shirt then the belt holding the holster for her gun, leather pockets for two additional magazines and a pocket at the back for the cuffs. She then clipped the tie on and fussed with it for about two whole minutes. After that, she checked the two stars on each side of the collar signifying her rank then adjusted the two ribbons, one a commendation, the other the Community Policing Medal.

Her nametag, Johnson, it simply read, was clipped on as well and Brenda couldn't help but trace her finger her own name several times as she stared at herself in the mirror.

From a little box she took the Sharpshooter Medal she had qualified for a couple months ago and pinned it to the pocket of her shirt – next year she would try for an Expert Medal. Brenda took a little extra time for her badge, polishing it with a soft cloth. She sat on the bed for a while, just looking at it and thinking about the officers that had been killed in the line of duty.

It was so utterly senseless…which was a gross understatement.

It could've been anyone.

Brenda shook her head and put the badge in its place, close to her heart then she pulled her hair back in a bun sitting low enough on her head so she could still wear her cap. Her shined shoes gleamed when she put them on.

Then she took her gun, a Glock, and holstered it.

Leaving the house, her cap securely under her arm, Brenda felt a certain pride warming her from within. The blues alone gave her a sense of belonging which she hadn't felt prior to joining the police force back in Washington D.C. – the first time she had put the uniform on, she had known why her father had always been so proud to wear his own.

Sometimes Brenda got made fun of still even though she had earned the respect of many of her colleagues and subordinates but most of the time, she just didn't strike people as the typical police officer. The truth however was that Brenda felt deeply connected to the job she had chosen and the people she was serving the community with.

She felt humbled even.

Brenda loved her job and she wouldn't be doing anything else even if she could have her pick; she may come across as obsessed and too driven but there was more to it than the simple need to figure it out, to complete the puzzle because every time Brenda closed a case, she knew she had made a difference. She couldn't right the wrongs that had been committed but she made a difference and that was what kept her going.

Somebody had to do it.

"Chief Johnson."

Brenda halted in the middle of the corridor on her way to meet her squad and turned slowly. Captain Raydor stood before her in her uniform, hair pulled back, cap under her arm, shoes shined, and looking very proud indeed.

"Cap'n Raydor."

It was an open secret among friends and family that Brenda had a sort of weakness, a soft spot, for men in uniform...and as it turned out, she seemed to have a weakness for women in uniform as well or rather for one woman in particular. For a moment Brenda's mind went blank and she forgot all about who Raydor was and just saw a woman of integrity standing before her, a beautiful sight.

"I see you've met your deadline," Brenda said for lack of anything else to say.

"Yes," the woman responded, a sense of relief in her voice. "Officers Stern and Duran have been completely exonerated."

The blonde felt her badge burn through her uniform as she looked at Raydor, the woman who picked the other side whenever she had to choose between the PD and whoever else.

"And because of the way Force Investigation Division operates I'll be investigatin' the deaths of more good cops just like them."

"…excuse me?"

"When officers are shot and killed in the line of duty, they're investigated by me. When they shoot back they're investigated by you." Brenda saw Raydor falter for an infinitesimal moment and knew instinctively that the woman had had that same thought way before her. "That means they'll think twice before defendin' themselves. That hesitation means that more good cops will die. I have to ask, have you ever considered what your principles might cost?"

Raydor gave a small nod. "70 million dollars. That was the settlement in the Rampart case. One hundred. That's how many convictions were overturned due to renegade policing and lack of oversight in one division alone, not to mention the loss of trust the LAPD needs to remain effective…"

There were always two sides of the coin.

"There has to be a better way."

"Well," Raydor said quietly, agreeing in a sense, "until then…you've got me."

Brenda felt the anger dissipate as she saw, for the first time, utter honesty in Raydor's eyes, a glimpse behind the mask, a glimpse of the real person underneath. "You're going to the funeral?"

"Yes," the woman replied, a small smile creeping onto her lips. "And don't worry, I've got my own car."

In the end, when Brenda was watching Raydor walking down the hallway in her uniform, she was left with a sense of respect for the woman and a sour taste in her mouth.

Everyone upset over the rules blamed Raydor. She was probably the least liked, the most despised person on the force, the force Captain Sharon Raydor seemed to love, and hold up to a higher standard. It was that standard she was trying to defend.

Somebody had to do it.

Brenda refused to feel bad for her though, after all, Raydor had chosen this for herself.

They weren't all that different, were they?

Too bad.

She was somebody Brenda could've actually liked.

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Spoilers: Heavy for episode 515 "Dead Man's Hand" and light spoilers for episode 105 "Flashpoint".  
**

**Author's Note: **I wanted to thank everyone who left a review so far; I really, really appreciate it! Thanks :)**  
**

**Chapter Three:**

**Dead Man's Hand**

Lately, Fritz had been a little distant. His behavior suggested that he was upset about something Brenda had done and expected her to figure it all out on her own. He probably thought that that shouldn't be a problem for her considering what she did for a living but, truth be told, she had to actually talk to people to get anywhere near a successful conclusion to her cases.

Brenda had tried to piece together what it was that had him so upset and came up empty. Fritz had known she was somewhat of a slob when they had gotten together; of course it had bothered him from time to time and she had made a great effort since then, it couldn't have accumulated.

That she worked a lot had also been clear from the very beginning; she would always have long days and sometimes even longer nights, she would get called out to a crime scene at four in the morning or when they were having a romantic dinner or when they happened to be cuddling in bed on a Sunday. It didn't matter. That was the job she had signed up for and she, Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson, was the kind of woman Fritz had chosen to spend his life with.

If anything, he should be mad at himself…

And to top it off he had just walked out on her that morning. Brenda disliked it. She also knew that he was doing it on purpose to have her thinking about what she could have possibly done wrong all day long.

Brenda decided that she should find a distraction at work instead; she wouldn't be moping all day, wondering what horrible thing she had done to her husband. And as it so happened, Brenda found a very good, yet horribly, horribly, horribly trying distraction in Chief Pope's office.

"Oh! Captain Raydor. Hi."

"Chief Johnson."

The other woman waved at her and Brenda felt her blood pressure shooting through the roof instantaneously. Her palms started sweating a bit and somehow she found she was short of breath.

Before she could become unnecessarily introspective, Brenda felt the energy in the room shifting. There was less confrontation.

What in the world was going on?

Brenda sat, so did Raydor, and the blonde instantly took in her scent. It was a habit she couldn't rid herself of; she always expected her to smell bad somehow but Raydor never did, in fact, she smelled pleasant even though she wasn't wearing perfume to work, just like Brenda.

The blonde wondered if Raydor ever wore any off duty and if so, which one?

And then she noticed that their knees were almost touching. Almost.

What if they did touch?

"Detective Moore became gradually more anxious, unfocused and then, this morning, I-" Raydor cut herself off and glanced at Will; her chin quivered. "This morning I noticed some bruises on the back of her neck and her arm and when I asked her about them she told me she had fallen…"

The Captain trailed off and Brenda tried to analyze the situation. "But you didn't believe her." It wasn't a question, just a mere observation. Sharon Raydor was upset and Brenda felt her heart going-

No. The blonde swallowed.

"The bruises were inconsistent with her explanation and no, I did not believe her and I am worried about her safety."

Brenda avoided her eyes; she couldn't look at the woman when she was like that, it was not how things worked between them and if Brenda let herself feel at all kindly towards the Captain then, then, then…

"So, I should talk to her." Brenda suggested.

"Before you do; I'm trying to avoid creating problems and if I'm overreacting to what I saw, if I'm wrong about this-"

"But if you're right then this is an assault on one of our employees which cannot be ignored and which Captain Raydor should not investigate on her own," Will said. "So, I would like Major Crimes to discreetly examine the life of Detective Moore and report back to me."

This was different because that was actually the very first time Brenda had heard Raydor question herself.

And their knees were still almost touching.

"I-I-I can't start a criminal investigation unless she files a complaint of some kind…"

"I was hoping, Chief, that maybe you would be able to see past the obstacles in this particular situation."

"The obstacles you're talking about are the justice system…"

Of course, Brenda rolled her eyes inwardly. Oblique interview with the husband? The only oblique thing here was that Raydor had obviously asked for her assistance, counting on Brenda's ability to bend, sometimes break, the rules when seen fit.

The one thing Raydor had shoved back in her face countless times was now the very thing that made her ask for help.

…then why couldn't Brenda stop acting like such a bitch?

* * *

Did she come across as too hard on the woman…Detective Moore?

Brenda suspected she might.

In the heat of an argument, her husband had hit her once. Brenda had filed for divorce immediately thereafter. It had been the final straw; she had endured his jealousy, his possessiveness, his spreading lies about her and then, when she had told him that she had had enough, that she was going to leave him once and for all, he had hit her.

Once and never again.

That was why Brenda couldn't empathize with women who let it go on and on.

Like some people, who survived a suicide attempt said that it had been the most stupid thing they had ever done and that whoever attempted it, was just as stupid. It didn't change the facts.

Deep down Brenda felt a burning rage towards the man that called himself Ally Moore's husband but acknowledging that would stir up old feelings of hurt, of fear, of terror when the person Brenda had once loved, had raised his hand against her.

Instead she decided to justify her merciless approach with the thought that nobody could be helped with pity, some people needed the help to be forced upon them and that was what she was doing.

Right or not, Brenda was on Ally's…Detective Moore's side.

* * *

Brenda stared at the photos of Ally Moore's injuries. The imprint of fingers on her breast. The hand-shaped bruise on her upper arm. The greenish discoloration on her thigh. The angry red marks on the back of her neck.

Brenda wondered where Ally's husband might have gone with this. What had he been after? An outlet for his anger, for his frustration about losing his job? Sex? Had he tried to force himself on Detective Moore?

Hard to tell especially considering that Moore hadn't said a single bad thing about her beloved husband.

Brenda bit her lip and stared at the pictures again – she knew how painful the grip of a hand could feel. Years ago she had been attacked at a crime scene, the memories flooding back vividly as she gazed at the bruises pictured in the photos.

The guy had hit her, had grabbed her, had nearly forced himself on her and it had been horribly painful, even days after it had happened Brenda had felt it in every single bone of her body.

For him it had been a game. A role-playing game.

What if he had actually meant to do serious harm? How awful would that have been?

Brenda looked up at Raydor who was engaging in an argument with Commander Taylor.

"Well, you're worried about headlines, Commander and I'm worried about one of my employees getting the crap beat out of her."

Brenda avoided her gaze – when Raydor said it like that, the blonde felt her own failure all the more.

"Is there no way to talk to the husband? That's what I'd do…"

"You're not in charge here and I don't have what I need to confront Shawn Moore." It was odd how Brenda always felt the need to defend her authority whenever Raydor was around; the woman hadn't questioned her, yet the blonde felt the need to establish a distance between them.

Especially since the woman had tears in her eyes and her voice was shaking with barely concealed contempt – gone was the robot Brenda had suspected her to be in a moment of sleep-depraved and Merlot-induced paranoia.

"You get people to confess to murder all the time," Raydor went on. "And you're telling me with these pictures in hand that you can't pick up the phone and call Ally's husband and ask him how she became so severely beaten."

"Captain!" Brenda hoped that it would snap Raydor out of it and that the woman would thank her later; having an emotional outburst in the middle of Major Crimes was certainly not something on Raydor's to-do list.

"I care about this kind of violence every bit as much as you do," Brenda went on.

"Okay, I'll take your word for it." Raydor touched the photos again as if to somehow share the burden with Ally. "And I will expect a more thorough report later."

Brenda nodded, her eyes staying glued to the woman until she was out of sight. It was then that Brenda wondered about the scar on Sharon Raydor's upper lip.

It was barely visible but add to that her unusual emotional involvement and her suddenly out-of-control anger issues and you started wondering…

* * *

Things were still not going great with Fritz.

He had left her with a note the next morning, casually informing her of his needing an AA meeting and, to top the nonchalance off, that he had fed Joel, the new kitten.

Something must be bothering him, Brenda thought and held Joel tightly. But she refused to be guilted into things when it was him not talking to her. Sure, she could make herself more available…but it was him who had said that his alcoholism was his problem and not hers.

Still.

Brenda sighed miserably.

She was worried about him and she was feeling quite helpless, not knowing what to do.

It was clear however that Brenda wouldn't know what was wrong until Fritz decided to tell her; until then Brenda just had to be extra-nice or else he might get extra-upset.

Tread lightly.

That phrase was decidedly overused these days, wasn't it?

At work, Pope ripped her a new one. Shawn Moore was dead but, as cruel as it sounded, Brenda thought that, statistically, it should be Ally down in the morgue and not her husband. It was the first in a series of things that rubbed her the wrong way. Second on that list was Raydor.

The woman seemed very pleased with herself when they showed up at the crime scene. A man was dead, a man who appeared to be an abuser, but still, he was dead and one shouldn't feel in the least bit pleased about that. At least until they were sure he committed all those atrocities.

From the look of things though, he probably did commit them, at least everybody in the room seemed to think so. It was exactly how Raydor operated, how she conducted her investigations but this was not how Brenda worked.

Something had felt off, first with Ally Moore and now this, her husband's death.

Raydor circled her like a predator waiting for a moment of weakness in which to strike. Brenda sighed inwardly as she felt a twinge of sympathy for the Wicked Witch, that's how they called her and Brenda hadn't objected.

Briefly she wondered what it would be like to reach out and…

"Chief?"

"Yes…Lieutenant Flynn?"

Flynn narrowed his eyes at her, letting her know that he had noticed her momentary lapse. "Buzz says he's done."

"Alright then." Brenda glanced the other way at Raydor who was staring down at the blood smears on the wall. "Captain, the house is all yours…"

Raydor turned, an irritated expression on her face. "You mean the crime scene…"

"Hmm, yes, the crime scene," Brenda responded tightly. She noticed the anger radiating off the woman, her body tense, her eyes hard and unwavering; Brenda wondered what the woman would do to her if she knew she could get away with it. Under the surface, the blonde felt her own blood boil; it wasn't her fault and she shouldn't be the one blamed but Raydor tried to make her out to be the one who was responsible for all of the night's events.

Raydor would probably want to strangle her, up close and personal, and enjoy it. Well, that woman better not try to mess with her because Brenda was ready for whatever Raydor had in store for her.

At least that was what she told herself when she felt the adrenaline spreading warmly through her body, and when she felt a tickle of excitement at the prospect of being the sole recipient of Captain Raydor's passionate anger, and passionate it was.

"Chief."

Brenda turned and plastered a smile on her face. "Well, Lieutenant, let's get goin'…" She walked out without another backward glance.

* * *

Sometimes Brenda hated Taylor for always being so diplomatic about things. He used to be different though, she still remembered how very undiplomatic he had been with her when she had first started. At least their relationship had changed over time – Brenda suspected that her total lack of trying to prove herself to him had actually proven something to him.

That she didn't give a crap about whether she had his approval or not.

Now they got along great; Taylor was loyal and Brenda had realized that he came with a great set of talents…being diplomatic was one of them, except in situations like these.

Commander Taylor had just suggested she and Raydor interview Ally Moore together. What a hideous idea. Raydor would ruin it because the woman was emotionally involved. It appeared as if the Captain was very protective of Ally Moore.

Of course, Brenda was very protective of her squad also but Raydor, the Wicked Witch, wasn't known for her heart-warming displays of affection after all but she had faith in Ally Moore though, she held her in high esteem and that meant a lot coming from Captain Sharon Raydor, Brenda knew that.

The day before, Brenda had insisted that Sergeant Dunn be interviewed by a third, neutral party, namely Commander Taylor, who, of course, had been very diplomatic about it, yet decisive when Dunn had run his mouth about the investigation Brenda had conducted prior to Shawn Moore's death.

It was another of Taylor's talents – being a badass when people least expected it. It always put them in their place.

The point was that Raydor had stood right there next to Brenda, listening to the same things yet hearing something completely different. Sergeant Dunn might be a model police officer but even he wasn't that good, Brenda had thought, no one could accomplish the things he apparently had in such a short amount of time – shooting the husband, clearing the house, questioning Detective Moore about why there was a weapon in the house.

Add to that the contradictory evidence from the autopsy and you had reasonable doubt.

The same thing would happen again with Ally Moore's interview, Brenda was certain of it – Raydor wouldn't listen.

When they entered the room, Raydor held Ally's hand and Brenda couldn't help but think how Fritz used to do that when she had had a horrible day. Last night though, when she had told him about how bad it had been, he had done no such thing.

How odd that she would think of this now…

"…and then I heard gunshots."

Brenda wasn't interested in those particular details, she had heard them all from Sergeant Dunn. Instead, the blonde was more interested in the answer to the question that had thrown Dunn for a loop.

"Let me ask you this, how exactly did your husband get in the possession of your weapon?"

Detective Moore faltered, the continuous flow interrupted by the one unexpected question. "W-What to do you mean?"

"Your husband fired at Sergeant Dunn using your gun. How did he get?"

"Oh, well, he knew where I kept it," Moore said in Raydor's direction as if she had to explain herself to the Captain and not a Deputy Chief of the LAPD.

"Which was where exactly?"

"In my vehicle."

Brenda felt Raydor stiffen right next to her and hoped that the woman had schooled her features and wasn't looking too surprised.

"So, I didn't think that Shawn could get to my gun if it was out of the house but maybe he got my keys when I was in the bathroom…um, can you apologize to Sergeant Dunn for me, please? I-I think I yelled at him and he was only trying to save me and I'm sorry for that…"

When Brenda stepped out of the interview room to meet up with Captain Raydor, who had left a few minutes earlier, Brenda felt a surge of sympathy. It had to be pretty clear, even to Raydor, that something was decidedly fishy here and Brenda couldn't help but empathize with the woman.

When you're forced to see the people you know and care about in a whole different light, it can sometimes be a difficult realization to swallow that they may not turn out to be who you thought they were. Raydor had a great deal of respect for Ally Moore, she had trusted her, and now all that seemed to be gone.

For a moment Brenda was surprised at how easily Raydor was able to turn her back on Moore and let her suspicions grow. Maybe it was the force of habit. No one really trusted you when you were in I.A., you were always the rat, and maybe you ended up not trusting anyone either, just in case they might turn out to be a bad egg or screwed you over as soon as they got the chance.

"Chief Johnson," Raydor said immediately when Brenda met her in the hallway. "I have some serious concerns about Sergeant Dunn's original statement."

"Why, Captain?" Brenda couldn't help but rub it in. "Because of everything he accomplished in the very short amount of time before backup arrived or is it the contradictory physical evidence from the morgue or could it be the placement of Detective Moore's gun?"

"Well, I am curious also why Detective Moore and Sergeant Dunn's statement regarding her weapon are so drastically different."

They walked down the hallway, side by side, their arms touching now and again which both of them pretended not to notice.

"It's the one question they didn't expect us to ask," Brenda responded.

"So you believe that they knew each other prior to this incident," Raydor stated rather than asked.

"Oh, yes Captain, I do," the blonde drawled as they rounded a corner, inching closer to one another still.

Contradictory as it was, Brenda still tried to make sense of it; being in Raydor's presence made her want to turn around and get as far away from her as possible. She hated how her pulse sped up and how the anger bubbled up within her, how unexpectedly thrilled she sometimes felt when her eyes landed on the woman, yet this close to her, all Brenda wanted to do was to glue herself to the woman.

Her warm scent, that was it, deceivingly comforting yet crisp and oddly clean. And suddenly Brenda stopped hating that her pulse sped up whenever they bumped into one another, and she stopped hating the tingle that bubbled up within her, and she stopped hating how unexpectedly thrilling it was to share the same space as Raydor.

Gradually the energy shifted, they were working toward a common goal and Brenda could hardly contain her excitement at the prospect of what the two of them could accomplish when actually working together.

"Hm," Raydor hummed dismayed. "I'm never going to hear the end of that."

"What you mean?"

Raydor gave her a look that held a meaning Brenda couldn't yet decipher. "I trusted her, hand-picked her and took her under my wing. It was a gross error in judgment and people will question me for it."

The blonde nodded slowly as they entered the murder room, half of the squad filing in behind them, having just come back from the observation room.

"I should've known," Raydor went on quietly. "When I saw Sergeant Dunn's patrol car right in front of Ally's house I thought to myself: Sharon, that does not seem right, not right at all."

"Wait-"

"No one parks a patrol car right in front of the house."

Brenda was about to retort when her attention was diverted by Flynn who shot evil glares at Raydor's back. "S'cuse me, gentlemen!" When all eyes were on her, Brenda left Raydor standing in the middle of the room and went for the board. "The Captain and I believe that Sergeant Dunn and Detective Moore may have known each other prior to his so called action and we all need to find out when and how they've met…if they've met."

Clearing her throat and glancing at Raydor whose boring stare was starting to drive her nuts, Brenda went on. "Lieutenant Flynn, I want you to look into Dunn's and Moore's history starting with the Police Academy and see if there's any overlap."

"On it, Chief."

"Lieutenant Provenza, how far are we on the ballistics reports?"

"Still pending."

"Tell 'em it's for Chief Pope."

Provenza made a face. "I already did but they insist that they're backed up."

Brenda sighed then noticed that Raydor was marching right past them all, determined expression firmly in place.

"Cap'n? Where are you goin'?"

The woman didn't even hear her or pretended not to as she stormed out of Major Crimes and down the hall.

Sighing, again, Brenda turned back to the squad. "Alright. Um, Lieutenant Tao, can you try to get phone records, please? We have to somehow prove that they knew each other and-"

"Who?"

The blonde twirled around and found Will lurking in the doorway. Great. "Um…Detective Moore and Sergeant Dunn of course."

"Don't tell me you're treating the newest LAPD hero and the latest victim of domestic violence like suspsects."

"I'm not," Brenda said quickly, maybe too quickly. "We're just entertainin' the possibility that there may have been-"

"A word, Chief Johnson, in my office!" He interrupted and turned on his heel, expecting her to follow.

Hoisting her purse back onto her shoulder, Brenda went after him which wasn't easy, considering how fast he was practically stomping back to his office.

"So, what proof do you have that Moore and Dunn knew each other?"

"They denied it!" Brenda was, as usual, already a step ahead of him but Will wouldn't listen.

"Okay, let's talk about what I mean by proof because when I use that word I mean some physical evidence we can all look at and go: ah!"

"Fine," Brenda rummaged in her purse for the case file. "How about this? FID's photos from the crime scene." She pointed it out for him. "Look. Sergeant Dunn parked his patrol car right in from of the house."

"To which he had been dispatched."

"Yeah, but it was dark, addresses are hard to see and you never park a patrol car directly in front of the house!"

What followed was Will's usual rant, which admittedly, Brenda sometimes needed in order to keep her from going off the deep end but today he seemed extra-angry with her. Just like Fritz kept being extra-upset. Great, Brenda thought, another guy mad at her and she had no idea whatever she could've done to him.

Thankfully Raydor interrupted; most of the time, the woman had the worst timing ever but at that very moment Brenda couldn't have been more thankful.

"What is that, Captain?"

The brunette deposited a whole box containing files on Pope's desk. "Sergeant Dunn's Officer Involved Shooting report from three years ago."

"That's one OIS report?"

Will nodded. "It is."

Raydor took out the very file on the top. "Along with Sergeant Elliott, there was a second, relatively new FID detective who assisted him in the investigation of Sergeant Dunn's case."

Brenda opened the file as soon as she had her hands on it and immediately zeroed in on the most important detail.

"Detective Ally Moore…"

* * *

"_That_ went great," Raydor said from a mere few inches behind her.

Brenda nodded slowly, still a bit dazed. "It did."

"_We_ were great."

A breathy laugh escaped the blonde's lips. "I know."

Raydor stepped up to her, mimicking her position, arms crossed over her chest. She let their shoulders touch deliberately as they stood side by side, staring out the door through which two officers had just led Ally Moore.

"I loved the detail with the too small hand imprint – you have exceptional observational skills, Chief."

Brenda nodded absent-mindedly, her thoughts more focused on what she was experiencing than on the conversation at hand. "And I was really impressed with how wonderfully handy that single-minded approach of yours came in…Cap'n."

"Hmm," Raydor hummed and nodded beside her then turned her gaze on Brenda who, after a moment of hesitation, met her eyes.

In that instance, her breath caught in her throat, the adrenalin still cursing through her veins and Raydor so close that they actually exchanged air, Brenda felt as if she were about to fall apart. Things went very, very quiet in her head until it was just the wild beat of her heart that literally skipped one when Raydor's eyes dropped to her lips.

The brunette's gaze lingered then, when Brenda thought she was about to faint, Raydor met her gaze again, a shiver traveling from her to the blonde through their touching shoulders.

Raydor's lips parted.

"I hate to break up your little party," the coroner said suddenly, raising an eyebrow as the two women jumped apart. "But Mr. Moore here has to go back into his cooler now."

"Oh," Brenda said.

"Of course," Raydor added.

"Sorry, Doctor."

"Um, Chief-"

"Captain."

"I'll send you a copy of my final report."

"Yes, I would appreciate that."

They rounded the table on which Shawn Moore was still laid out and bumped into each other awkwardly when they reached the door. "Um," Brenda stepped back. "After you, Captain."

Raydor smiled at her, faintly, the amusement shining in her eyes, and walked through the door.

Brenda followed after a moment, a strange warmth in her belly.

* * *

There were two knocks on her door.

Not that Brenda's visitor needed to announce herself; the blonde had already spotted her when she had swept into Major Crimes.

In the doorway stood Captain Sharon Raydor in her light blue blazer, holding up a single file folder. "You're not going to believe why Ally Moore wanted to kill her husband."

It was late, already dark outside, the murder room had gone quiet and most of the lights were out, casting Brenda's office in a gentle, soft hue comfortable on the eye. In that light even Raydor looked different. It was the first time Brenda didn't feel agitated somehow when looking at the woman.

"You mean there was a better reason than the affair she was havin' with Sergeant Dunn?"

Raydor entered. "Well, that depends on how you feel about real-estate." She sat down delicately, handing the file over to Brenda and put her purse in her lap after crossing her legs.

The blonde couldn't help but notice how the woman's skirt rode up just a tiny bit, exposing her knee.

Brenda blinked and glanced down at the file while Raydor kept talking.

"Ally and Shawn had an interest-only loan on their house that was about to reset and they were going to lose their home unless…"

"Unless one of them died and the mortgage insurance kicked in." Brenda considered what it could possibly mean that she was finishing Raydor's sentences now, just like back in the morgue where they had done the same thing as if they had rehearsed it prior to the interview with the respective suspects. "Well, it's awfully hard to refinance these days."

Brenda glanced the file over, curiosity winning out.

"I would also like to say…"

_And here we go again…_

"That I'm fully aware that at the beginning of this investigation, I was a total bitch."

Brenda waited a whole second before she opened her mouth, afraid she might say something she could not take back or gloss over with a couple niceties but then again, it was Raydor she was talking to and she was the one person Brenda didn't have to be nice to.

"I'd say it was more in the middle…and near the end."

"But I still believe that if you had talked to the husband earlier that he might-"

"That he might still be alive," Brenda finished, not glossing that one over either. "Yes, I've thought about that and about how much I may've resisted talkin' to him because-"

"Because I suggested it."

Brenda nodded. "It's possible." And Raydor was looking at her again like back in the morgue, which was where all of Brenda's thoughts seemed to go back to, as if that had been the most significant moment of her day and not where she had figured out why Fritz was always being extra-upset and why Will kept getting extra-angry.

No, her mind was playing tricks on her. "Um, but, uh, I did wanna say that it might be—I do think that it might be beneficial for the LAPD if we-"

"If you just did what I said-"

"-were to work a bit better together."

This time they did not anticipate what the other would say; Brenda was even a bit relieved.

"The thing is…" Raydor trailed off, releasing a breath and the blonde wondered if Raydor was thinking the same thing, if Raydor felt that sometimes when they were in the same room like this, alone, a certain tension would bubble up that Brenda couldn't really name or define.

That there was something between them that neither one wanted to really acknowledge.

"We just don't like each other," Brenda blurted out.

"No, we don't. Oh, my goodness, no. And you know what? That is a very difficult dynamic to change."

"It is."

"It's hard on everyone."

"Uh huh."

"Okay. Well, good!"

"Thank you so much for the final report."

"Um," Raydor stood and slung her purse over her shoulder. "Good night, Chief."

"Good night to you…"

Brenda watched her leave and wondered about how much of her initial reservations regarding Captain Raydor were due to her ex-husband. He had once filed a complaint against her and Internal Affairs had investigated.

They had treated her like crap and in the end she had had to leave her job because they had completely ruined her reputation.

Brenda bit her lip; she may have harbored some prejudices and she also might have been a bit more depreciative than was appropriate even when taking her history into account but that thing she felt when Raydor was around, that thing that just wouldn't go away, seemed to inspire all of these emotions in her.

Being a bitch seemed to come naturally to her when that woman was around – she brought out the worst in people, or at least in Brenda but why that was, the blonde refused to contemplate.

* * *

That night, in Fritz's loving arms, Brenda laid awake. Once the afterglow had worn off and still feeling all riled up from the day's events, the blonde's thoughts had started to wander.

Raydor came to mind.

In the back of her head, somewhere, Brenda realized that she may have simplified the truth a little and had left one little detail out to contemplate earlier in the evening. She couldn't stand the woman that was true yet Brenda knew without a doubt that it wasn't mere resentment she harbored for Captain Raydor.

She thought about all the confessions she had heard in the interrogation room and otherwise. Secrets that had been so well kept that only a single person's admission of guilt allowed them to be known by others.

Guilt. Was that what she was feeling?

Many had told Brenda that they felt better once they had relieved themselves of the burden of secrecy. She had seen it happening right before her eyes countless of times. How shoulders had relaxed and dropped, how tension left a body, how color returned to somebody's features.

Perhaps admitting it to herself was the first step to recovery?

Brenda took a breath and held it as she stared at the wall.

_I am attracted to her._

_To Captain Sharon Raydor._

_Physically, and physically only._

Because she still couldn't stand the woman. She was terrible. Annoying. Pedantic. Narcissistic.

_Oh, that woman!_

But as soon as Brenda smelled that soothing, warm scent of hers, she couldn't think. And when that voice, low and husky, reverberated within her, raising the hairs on the back of her neck Brenda sometimes caught herself leaning in closer.

And knowing that Raydor desired her too, that she would look at Brenda, wanting her, when Brenda was not aware of it, that she may even get aroused by the blonde's mere presence…

_Well. _

Brenda let out the breath she had been holding and tried to analyze her feelings. Did she feel better now that she had admitted it?

Perhaps.

Brenda closed her eyes, too tired to come to a definite conclusion.

She fell asleep eventually with Raydor still on the brain.

Brenda dreamt of her that night; she dreamt of Captain Raydor leaning against her desk and looking down at her with that superior, barely-there smirk while languidly licking the sweet, soft and creamy filling of a Ding Dong from the very tip of her finger.

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Spoilers: Heavy for episode 602 "Help Wanted".  
**

**Author's Note: **I'd really like to thank all of you who have left such positive and encouraging feedback; it means a lot to me! Writing this fic is somewhat like being on cannoli-duty: It seems to take forever but keeping the end-product in mind helps you to somehow keep going. Cannoli = your positive feedback.

Just so you know, I'm currently OD-ing on real cannoli...yum, I feel 10 pounds heavier already :)

**_Chapter Four:_**

_Help Wanted_

Studies showed that a southern accent often influenced people in a positive manner. The cadence, the softened, rounded vowels, the drawl sometimes more pronounced, sometimes less made others feel at ease, leaving them with the impression to have talked with a friendly person.

Studies also showed that southern speakers were often thought to be less competent than non-southern speakers – that was why, subconsciously, Brenda often toned it down when in heated discussions with Raydor; especially when she was wearing her old cream colored, cashmere feel-good cardigan and had a bad hair day.

Raydor had an excellent hair day and she was wearing something expensive.

Brenda could tell because it sat perfectly on Raydor's frame.

And she also wore high heels.

They really accentuated her legs.

Her skirt had ridden up to almost mid-thigh.

When Raydor had walked in that morning, Brenda had immediately noticed her. Hunched over a stack of paperwork, wearing her cardigan to comfort her through the immensely trying experience of filling out what seemed like the same form time and time again, Brenda had felt the shift outside.

Her eyes had fallen on Raydor waltzing right in without even glancing at anyone occupying the room, which had only been Buzz, who had painted a wall and Provenza who had gotten up and had hurried after her in a futile attempt to get to Brenda's office first in the hopes to warn her of the approaching disaster.

But Brenda had already noticed Raydor, her eyes trailing the woman's progress. When Raydor had opened the door, aware that her presence needn't be announced by a knock, Brenda had felt her heart contract almost painfully – she hadn't been breathing from the moment she had laid eyes on the woman.

_How foolish you're being…_

"Cap'n." She had cleared her throat, embarrassed by the strange drop her voice had done all on its own. "Captain Raydor…" The blonde had stood up and glanced at Provenza who was already on his way back to his desk, defeated, then Brenda pulled her cardigan tighter around herself, aware of her somewhat rumpled appearance.

She had immediately felt inferior, off balance somehow, but this time, she bit down on whatever remark her brain had tried to dig up; this time she wouldn't pull rank, this time she would try to get along.

"Chief…" Raydor had narrowed her eyes at her, pausing over the word and had then stepped up to the desk. "Chief, I'm here to conduct the interview that I-"

"What kind of interview is this anyway? An I.A. interview?"

"Chief," the woman interrupted before Brenda could start a rant. "This is completely voluntary but I suggest you think about the…impression it would leave if you refused to cooperate with-"

"Oh, so now you're threatenin' me?" And there went the trying to get along concept.

"I'm not threatening you, Chief." Raydor's eyes focused on the ceiling for a moment in which she gathered herself. "I'm merely suggesting that you comply with my request. It'll be easier for everyone involved."

Brenda plopped down in her chair, resigned, and closed the file on her desk. "Everyone involved in what?"

Raydor said nothing, she just pulled out a notepad and a pen once she sat. "Your middle name is Leigh, correct?"

"…yes."

"You graduated from Georgetown University, is that right?"

"Um." The blonde nodded. "Yes, but what-"

"And you haven't lived in L.A. prior to becoming Deputy Chief, correct?"

Brenda blinked, irritated, wondering what all this was about – although, she did have her suspicions.

"Chief?"

"Oh, yes, that's right."

Raydor scribbled something on her notepad. "And you've been with the LAPD now for..?"

"A little over five years."

"Really?" Raydor glanced down at her notes and scribbled. "Seems longer."

She was wearing lavender today…

"And before that you've been with the Atlanta PD and before that the Washington D.C. police force, is that right?"

"Yes, it is."

Lavender always suited her.

"You know, Cap'n Raydor, I could probably be much more helpful with your internal affairs investigation if I knew what it's about."

Raydor abandoned her note-taking for a moment to give her that little smirk. "You'd be surprised how many people think that." Her eyes dropped back to the paper. "But the best way, really, to help me is to answer my questions as thoroughly as possible. Now. You first met Chief Pope in Washington D.C., is that correct?"

"Yes, it is…is he the subject of this-"

"Can you tell me when and how the two of you first met?"

Brenda bit down on yet another remark. "In March of 1997 I became liaison officer from the…" She was scribbling again. "…Department of State to the Washington D.C. Police Department where Chief Pope was Deputy Chief."

"And how was your working relationship with Chief Pope?"

"Excellent," Brenda responded brightly. "In fact, we got along so well that he convinced me to leave my job and join the D.C. Police Department." So this was about Pope after all. _Figures._ "Gave me an excellent opportunity to observe his leadership skills close up."

"Because the two of you were having an affair."

Well, Brenda thought, she had walked right into that one. _That woman_…she was good. "When you work the hours we do, under pressured situations, it's not unusual to find yourself involved with a co-worker." The blonde schooled her features, opting for honesty, yet she couldn't help feeling a twinge of…something…when she looked up at the Captain.

"Even a married one?"

"He didn't tell me he was married when we first started seeing each other."

Scribble, scribble, scribble…

"Of course that does not make him a bad candidate for Chief of Police."

Raydor smirked while she seemed to pen a whole novel.

"I find these questions extremely personal…"

The woman chuckled airily, not ceasing her note-taking. "Believe me, Chief, if this were personal, I would not be here."

Personal or not, Brenda felt a bit of unease wash over her. Of course they'd send Raydor – you couldn't really say no to the woman without looking like you're trying to hide something. And discussing personal matters with Raydor just felt way too personal. For some reason or rather one very obvious reason, Brenda didn't want to mix Raydor with any part of her personal life; that was just bound to mess with her head.

_After all,_ she thought somewhat dismayed at the realization that nothing had changed since she had last seen Raydor, _after all, you're still as attracted to her as the last time you laid eyes on her. _

Brenda's eyes dropped to Raydor's exposed knee.

_Terrible._

It was just another reason to feel inferior seeing as Raydor had somehow managed to put the attraction aside and wasn't allowing herself any more lapses like that one time in the morgue or that other time in Brenda's office.

She was all business…that woman.

"The intimate part of my relationship with Chief Pope ended in D.C. and as a matter of record, disclosed by Chief Pope himself, before I was even hired."

She could do all business too.

"But if Chief Pope created Major Crimes specifically to bring you to Los Angeles-"

"Major Crimes is just another name for a division that had been in operation for an entire year before I even arrived." Brenda took a breath, putting her smile back on in order to regain some of her composure. It was terrible how easily the woman could get under her skin, embarrassingly so. "It was not specifically created for me, it was designed to prevent the department from suffering through another crisis like it had been with the OJ and the Rampart investigations. And in Chief Pope's credit, the division is performing exactly as designed as you can see for yourself."

Once the next words had left Raydor's mouth, Brenda realized that she had just dug her very own grave.

"Oh, thank you! I would love to see for myself. You know, prior to this you and I have pursued parallel investigations but for me to get a really good look at how Major Crimes operates, I do need to accompany you on your next investigation. Fantastic."

Brenda suddenly had difficulty swallowing…and breathing.

It had been months since she had last seen the woman and Brenda really had done everything to avoid crossing paths with her. Admittedly, sometimes she had lingered a bit when she had caught a glimpse of what appeared to be Raydor, which had been her only that one time.

Months of trying to forget the woman, of shaking off that ridiculous attraction, would be ruined as soon as the woman began irritating her, annoying her, antagonizing her…and making her want to dissolve into a puddle because she couldn't stand the sizzling heat overtaking her body.

Brenda groaned inwardly because apparently, she was the only one still silly enough to contemplate this, to feel this but that had always been her problem. Being emotionally involved when others weren't but she had gotten good at being cautious, at being careful where she placed her sympathies.

She had also expected things to get better once she had admitted the attraction; at that moment though, when she couldn't even stand the sound of Raydor's pen on the paper, Brenda knew that admitting an attraction was one thing and dealing with it another.

Fact was, Brenda was a married woman and she was certain that she would never ever act on this; that certainty, sadly, felt like she had permission to lust after the woman.

It wasn't okay…but who would know?

* * *

When Raydor had said she would be accompanying the squad on their next investigation she had blatantly lied.

Accompanying implied that you were a mere companion, someone to travel alongside with, someone with the same goal ahead and the same mission on the way.

Raydor was none of those things.

Firstly, Brenda felt as if the woman had glued herself to her back, as if she had put a rubber band around her that would pull her right back when Brenda dared take one step too far away.

Secondly, they did not have a common goal in mind and they weren't on the same mission even though Raydor had implied otherwise before embarking on this little endeavor but the woman was pursuing a parallel investigation, yet again, that had nothing to do with Brenda's case and everything to do with Chief Pope.

Whom Brenda wanted to do horrible things to for getting her into this mess.

"What would she ask you?" He had wondered nonchalantly right after ordering her to go find the missing nanny. The nanny that had only been missing for 36 hours which meant that she couldn't even have been reported missing.

As if Raydor ever ran out of probing, uncomfortable, annoying and superfluous questions.

"Now, how exactly does tracking down someone's nanny qualify as a major crime?"

It had only been an hour so far, half of which Brenda had spent in her own car, away from Raydor but already she felt like she was being driven to the brink of insanity. It was ridiculous but the worst was the sound of Raydor's pen on the paper when she took her little notes, which she never seemed to cease doing, and which turned out to be a constant reminder of her presence.

When Brenda's sense of smell wasn't being assaulted by the warm, sweet scent that made her toes curl whenever it enveloped her yet annoyed her at the same time for being too elusive and fleeting to exactly pinpoint what it consisted off, in short, when she didn't smell Raydor, she heard her and her damn pen instead.

And when Brenda was finally far enough away Raydor decided that she had to make her presence known by interrupting constantly.

"Excuse me…Chief? You know the LAPD isn't allowed to ask a person immigration status."

Brenda blinked, twice, while smiling as pleasantly as she could at Raydor. "I didn't. I asked if she speaks English."

So far Sergeant Gabriel had been stuck with the unpleasant task of mediating between the two women and strategically and diplomatically sugar-coating things with the Disken's. He was doing great and so did Raydor, come to think of it.

Sure, she was too brute sometimes and too in love with her little rulebook but one didn't make Captain by being completely incompetent and stupid…especially when one was a woman such as Raydor.

Or Brenda, for that matter. She was smart and very good at what she was doing which was why it came as a surprise to the blonde when she realized that she had been going about this whole Raydor thing the wrong way, yet again.

Instead of using all that energy to work against Raydor, who was surely not going to change because she was even more inflexible than Brenda herself, which was quite the accomplishment, Brenda should use that energy to redirect Raydor's; instead of trying to tame the waves she should just ride them, just go with the flow or rather the tsunami that was Raydor.

After all, the woman had just gotten her the answer to the question Brenda was technically not allowed to ask.

Nonetheless, she was driving Brenda crazy and the continuous poking around of hers was quickly wearing down Brenda's patience which was why she quite literarily slammed the door in Raydor's face.

To which the Captain responded to with more hovering.

Brenda suspected that she might be doing it on purpose.

* * *

The next day Brenda tried to make sure that she had a great hair day but decided to put it in a bun in the end. She chose a cerulean dress and woolen jacket.

She was going for unapproachable, distant and professional yet Mrs. Disken still decided to hug her and draw comfort from her when she heard of Adriana's death. She had just interviewed them, unofficially, in the break room.

Raydor had hovered somewhere in the back the whole time, taking her little notes and immediately shared what she thought about this whole thing as soon as the Disken's were out the door.

"Um, Chief..?"

_And here we go yet again…_

"Yes?" Brenda asked, maintaining a safe distance.

"Correct me if I'm wrong; Gregory Disken didn't want his wife calling in any favors, his alibi is weak and he didn't want to be here, so while your squad is out looking for leads, your main suspect just walked through the door."

"Lieutenant Tao, he was sitting on the left."

Lieutenant Tao, now equipped with a pair of black latex gloves grabbed the water bottle from which Gregory Disken had just sipped and presented it to Raydor. "I'm going to cut a hole in the bottom of this bottle to not contaminate the top." While he was off to the sink, Brenda felt Raydor's appreciative glance upon her.

The woman seemed impressed, satisfied with the amount of wit Brenda seemed to possess which, in itself, was rather insulting considering that Brenda neither needed nor wanted her approval.

Still, the blonde felt rather pleased with herself; not for her ingenious plan but rather that Raydor looked at her in that way.

"…air this out and we have a perfect DNA sample of Mr. Disken."

Brenda smiled at Tao, somewhat smitten with his quirkiness. "Thank you Lieutenant."

Tao seemed equally smitten but recovered and rushed out.

Raydor just grinned to herself, desperately trying to not actually smile. "Hmm," she hummed, amusement shining in her eyes.

"Yes, Captain – hmm." Brenda grinned back, amused, perhaps a little smitten too. "Look, we all know what this investigation of yours is about but what I'd like to know how questioning my methods relates to Chief Pope?"

"You'll find out eventually," Raydor said quickly then changed the subject. "I would very much like to accompany you on your field trip tomorrow if you have no objections?"

Brenda smiled as pleasantly as she could; at least the woman asked for permission, not that Brenda had any other choice but to say yes. "No, why would I, Cap'n?"

"Thank you," Raydor replied, smiling just as pleasantly.

This was getting exhausting very quickly.

And Brenda also couldn't help but feel like things had just changed without her knowing why. Raydor's attitude certainly was different.

"Would you like to get somethin' to eat?" Brenda clamped her mouth shut. Why did she say that?

Raydor looked just as surprised as she did and said nothing for at least five seconds in which she held Brenda's eye contact. The blonde could see that Raydor wanted to say yes, she almost did, Brenda was sure of it and somewhere, deep down, the blonde wanted her to also but Raydor blinked first, blinked away whatever she had been thinking. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Chief."

Brenda felt a twinge of regret deep in the pit of her stomach. "It was just a friendly invitation…" She tried to justify it and only after the sentence was out of her mouth, Brenda realized that maybe she felt a little bit of guilt because maybe it hadn't been a mere friendly invitation.

She also realized that she had just made a big mistake.

Raydor let her eyes wander about the room as she crossed her arms. "The circumstances have changed and we ought to be more careful with how we conduct ourselves." The woman cleared her throat, still avoiding Brenda's gaze and then she swept past the blonde, closer than necessary.

Brenda cherished the scent that still lingered in the room, wondering if the game they had been playing had finally come to an end.

* * *

That the dark figure of sex crimes was probably higher than anyone dared imagine had been clear to Brenda for a very long time; she hadn't yet really tried to estimate, from her experience as a police officer, the number of unreported cases of rape and violence against women among illegal immigrants.

Fear of deportation, no means to communicate or just plain helplessness had kept these women in the van from contacting the police, maybe even from going to the hospital.

"Here…"

Brenda turned as she heard that one voice among all the others.

"This will keep you warm."

The blonde watched in silence, in stillness, as Captain Raydor draped her LAPD windbreaker around one of the women's shoulders.

The place was swarming with law enforcement now – even the FBI was there, naturally, since Fritz had shot Agent Meyers. Marisol was alright though, they had taken her to the hospital right away to treat her for shock. The other women were about to be sent to the hospital as well – one of them, Anita, Brenda thought was her name, was afraid of getting into the ambulance.

Raydor was currently rubbing Ana's back, her eyes almost overflowing with compassion; it was ridiculous how empathetic the seemingly cold-hearted bitch was which probably meant that she wasn't cold-hearted at all…although the jury was still out on the bitch case.

But that wasn't really anything new, was it?

Raydor had always been compassionate, inappropriately so but never when it had actually counted.

Brenda released a long breath and wandered off. She found a spot where there was less light, less people, less sound, just generally less of everything and let her eyes close for a moment.

What she had done had been incredibly stupid.

She really could've gotten herself killed.

"Do you need a ride?"

Brenda blinked alertly at the woman closing in on her.

"That's my car," Raydor said, gesturing vaguely at the silver Ford Brenda was leaning against.

The blonde immediately straightened and bit her lip watching in quiet fascination as Raydor walked right past her and leaned against the car herself. After a moment of careful consideration and her curiosity getting the better of her, Brenda slumped back in the same position she had been before. Their arms and shoulders were touching like this, pressed together, as they looked on, watching the goings-on.

No matter how much Commander Taylor delegated, things just seemed to continue to get out of hand, especially with the FBI overruling his commands and him overruling theirs. Chaos ensued. Amidst it, Brenda found a moment of clarity. With her and Raydor packed together like sardines by some imaginary force, a contact the brunette had initiated, Brenda wondered if things truly had changed at all.

She merely glanced at Raydor at first then glued her eyes to the woman's profile.

Raydor took her time to respond but eventually she did with shining eyes.

Brenda parted her lips, laying the bait out, and let her gaze slowly turn smoldering and then she waited patiently, her heart pounding with barely contained anticipation. She wanted to be right about this and she would be, there was no doubt about it in Brenda's mind that Raydor was still as attracted to her as the day they met.

It was a mere matter of time.

And then, just as predicted, Raydor couldn't help but let her eyes drop to Brenda's lips; her own parted in that instance and her breath hitched almost imperceptibly.

A self-satisfied, little smirk started to form on Brenda's lips and she arched a victorious eyebrow at Raydor when their eyes reconnected.

_Gotcha. _

To Raydor's credit, the woman didn't seem to be embarrassed at being caught, and caught she was, but rather amused by it all. She graced Brenda with an indulgent yet resigned smirk and straightened. "Well, Chief…"

"Captain," Brenda said, her voice sugary sweet, before the brunette could continue. "Seems like change is hard to come by these days; it's all still the same init?"

Raydor nodded slowly and folded her arms across her chest. "Maybe I still am. But the circumstances have changed, Chief."

Brenda almost rolled her eyes, conscious of the fact that she did not really have all the facts but confident enough in her abilities to pretend otherwise. "Yes, I'm aware of that…"

After a moment, Raydor's smirk broadened. "I highly doubt that."

Brenda's face went slack.

"But you'll find out soon enough." Raydor shook her head. "I know it's _incredibly_ difficult for you but you just have to be patient for a little while longer."

* * *

There were five knocks on the door, Captain Raydor in the doorway and Brenda immediately felt the need to dampen the annoyance with sugar. "Cap'n Raydor. Come in…"

"I just wanted to say thank you. Since your husband neutralized Joe Meyers the FBI gets to do all the after-action clean up. All of Internal Affairs owes you a huge favor."

"Well," Brenda said in response to the somewhat lame attempt at lightening the mood. "Any chance I get to make your life a little easier."

She wanted to roll her eyes but then Raydor said the one thing Brenda had not expected her to say at all. "And you showed great bravery." Raydor meant it.

"Well, thank you but uh, the credit goes to all of Major Crimes…and of course Chief Pope."

"By the way, I think you will be pleased to know that I've completed my investigation."

Brenda tried to contain her excitement. "Oh? You finished your background on Chief Pope?"

"I didn't say I was doing a background check on Chief Pope."

Brenda blinked at Raydor's expression; she looked pleased, too pleased and that smile and the way her voice wrapped itself around Brenda like a velvety soft blanket, caught Brenda by surprise. The rules were changing yet again and just as she had gotten used to Raydor's new attitude.

"As the LAPD's Women's Coordinator, I'm on the search committee for our new boss. The mayor and the police commission want a strong female candidate in the mix."

Something clicked.

"You are the highest ranking woman in the Department now, so…"

The blonde glanced down at the folder Raydor was holding out to her then took it hesitantly. "What's this?"

"It's an application," Raydor said smugly. "For the Chief of the LAPD."

Brenda saw her eyes darken as she said it, and the way she said it, suggestively, the blonde instantly knew that Raydor was so getting off on this.

Just their luck that the woman possessed the frame of mind to put a little more distance between them.

"All applicants need to get one in within the next two weeks."

Brenda thought that Raydor was certainly pulling her leg. She put on her glasses and opened the folder, expecting to find nothing in it, yet there it was, page for page. "I see it's already been filled out for me." Of course it was; leave it to Raydor to know that filling out the application would be one of the many hindrances in Brenda's decision process.

It felt unreal somehow that the woman knew her so well.

"All it needs is your signature," Raydor said smoothly, her voice taking on husky qualities.

The blonde felt her toes curl.

"From our conversations I gathered that you are still close to Chief Pope and I do hope that this _incredible_ opportunity doesn't cause any friction…between the two of you."

What Raydor meant was that she hoped it would cause a whole lot of friction which she was sure it would, judging from the smug expression on her face.

"Two weeks, Chief Johnson."

Two weeks, Brenda thought, that was probably the amount of time it would take her to forget the past five minutes. She slumped into her chair, stunned. "Chief of Police?"

_Oh, for heaven's sake…_

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Spoilers: Heavy for episode 609 "Last Woman Standing".  
**

**Author's Note: **Sorry, you guys had to wait for this chapter a little while longer than usual. I'd also like to thank everyone for the feedback - I really didn't anticipate such a positive response to this little fic. It means a great deal to me, thank you. Cellen - I speak German also, so don't feel obligated to write English :)

**_Chapter Five:_**

**Last Woman Standing**

Brenda had known about this appointment for three days.

She had avoided thinking about it since Pope had mentioned it but, as always, the one thing Brenda desperately tried to not think about was the one thing she could not stop thinking about.

Raydor when she drank her coffee in the morning.

Raydor when Fritz wasn't home from work yet, leaving Brenda alone with her thoughts.

Raydor whenever Brenda spotted an immaculate coif on an even more immaculately dressed woman.

Staring down at the body of her latest victim – no, Raydor.

It only lasted for a good five minutes before Taylor showed up to remind her of said appointment.

Maybe it wasn't so much Raydor but rather what she represented: A job Brenda did not really want but knew she would have to take if she got it. What would happen to her squad then? And who would take care of things if she wasn't around?

Taylor?

Brenda couldn't even think about that.

She wouldn't even have put in for the job if it hadn't been for Will and his uncalled for, misogynistic remarks that had gotten her so angry that Brenda had applied for the job out of sheer defiance.

But things would go better with Raydor this time around, Brenda had vowed that she would try harder to get along. She was also pretty sure that the silly attraction she had had for the woman had winded down to a mere, well, tickle of excitement. It had never been serious after all, just some silly physical thing which Raydor had been right to completely ignore the last time they had worked together.

So, things would work out great.

And knowing that the likelihood of avoiding the appointment was slim to none, Brenda had even done her hair; she had a great hair day even though she didn't feel like it but it wouldn't do to show up and have Raydor see her looking like a slob again.

Brenda hadn't seen Raydor in over a month – one month, one week and three days to be more precise and she had used that time to actually deal with things. Being attracted to the woman had come as a surprise to Brenda because she usually wasn't all that attracted to anyone or at least not so much that she couldn't even conceal it.

The dance they had been dancing, the game they had been playing with each other, had been terribly exciting, at least to Brenda, she didn't really know how Raydor felt about it all. The idea of being desired by somebody who knew couldn't have you, excited Brenda more than she cared to admit. It also mattered that it was Raydor doing the desiring, something Brenda had admitted to herself yet hadn't been able to make sense of.

But now that she was being considered for the position of Chief of Police, Brenda was sure that whatever they had been doing was now over.

Raydor had made that very clear the last time they had spoken – things changed and now there was more important stuff to deal with than want and desire and lust.

When Brenda entered Chief Pope's office, her eyes immediately sought out Raydor's who was already looking her way, a faint smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

"Captain…" Brenda felt a warmth coloring her cheeks a bit pinker and a giddiness making her smile wider, showing her excitement clearer than she would have wanted.

Raydor knew; it was why Brenda averted her gaze. Raydor knew what power she still had over Brenda by merely looking at her. She went even further, that woman, making Brenda her sole center of attention which she knew would rattle the blonde even more.

Brenda, not to be outsmarted, and just as observant of Raydor as the woman was of her, knew perfectly well how to shift everyone's attention onto another occupant of the room. Brenda was good at deflecting, she had always been an avoider of emotional confrontation, and she also couldn't stand to be put on the spot like this, and since she knew Raydor better than she cared to admit, Brenda wouldn't need many words to manipulate this conversation to her advantage.

"Didn't you tell me yourself that I had no real chance at being Chief, that you were only permittin' me to submit an application-"

"S'cuse me?" Raydor turned her gaze on Pope. "Permission?"

"That's-that's not what I said!"

"Yes, you did!" Brenda screeched. "You permitted me to apply as some sort of stalking horse…"

"You did not." Raydor had her hands on her hips already and her gaze had turned hard and icy, a look that nobody wanted directed at them.

"I did not give her permission," Will said while Brenda grinned smugly to herself. "I think we can all agree that there were some serious flaws in my approach to campaign to be Chief, one thing I'm no longer in the running but it is now in my best interest, in all of our best interest, that the mayor appoint you as our next boss. If you just quit now-"

"People will think you're hiding something," Taylor said from behind her now that all attention was on her again.

"Or worse," Raydor went on, "you'll seem like a flake or like you broke under pressure. Whatever you do, you can't just cancel this interview and you can't reschedule."

"Because when they mayor calls for a meeting with his Chief of Police, he expects him, or her, to show up."

Brenda took a deep breath. "Well, when people are smothered to death in their homes they expect me to show up too."

"Okay, I don't know what it was like in Atlanta, honey, but when you apply for Chief of Police in Los Angeles and you don't get the job there are big consequences."

Honey? Right, Brenda thought, shooting daggers at the woman.

"First, I get fired," Will said.

"You don't know that."

"And then every success he's had, like Major Crimes for instance," Taylor said being his sneaky, diplomatic self, "well, that gets completely dismantled."

"Chief?" Raydor's voice sounded softer now, deceptively so. "If you don't at least attend this final interview the women of the LAPD will be completely demoralized and many of them will never forgive you…ever."

Brenda bit her lip; she was a flake because here she was, breaking under pressure. "Well, can't I just skip the whole…prep part? I just go in there and be myself."

"That is a terrible idea," Raydor said and from the silence she heard following that statement, Brenda just had to assume that everyone whole-heartedly agreed.

* * *

"You have serious control issues."

Brenda blinked, irritated, and walked faster, more determined, towards her office while Raydor trailed after her a step or two behind.

"Commander Taylor has been with the LAPD for a very long time. I'm sure he's capable of handling this investigation formidably."

Brenda snorted inwardly. Taylor was good at what he was doing, he also looked great on TV, and he was diplomatic, or rather political and Brenda wasn't, which was why they were both good at the jobs they had.

But Taylor running her squad?

Taylor ever being better at her job than Brenda herself?

_Never gonna happen…_

"You have to focus, Chief, tomorrow is a very, very important day…"

Brenda shook her head. "But what makes tomorrow better than any other day?" If Raydor treated her like a petulant kid, Brenda sure would behave like one; it wasn't an involuntary reaction but a conscious decision. Having to think about that silly interview day in and day out and hoping, desperately, that she wouldn't get the job, was rather nerve-wracking which was why Brenda found it much easier to let Raydor think about all these things for her.

Being told what to do sometimes wasn't such a bad thing.

"The mayor just finished interviewing the other four applicants for Chief of Police and you're the only woman so you make for a vivid contrast. I think," Raydor looked her over again with that penetrating gaze of hers. "We should capitalize on your feminine strengths."

"Which are?"

Raydor hesitated for a moment and glanced her over yet again, unashamed and without guilt. "Don't take this the wrong way, Chief because I have always admired how little you care about current fashion and the—the purse." The woman held out her hand. "The purse?"

Begrudgingly, Brenda handed the seemingly offending article over.

"This purse helps people underestimate you."

_Which is exactly what you're doing_, Brenda thought petulantly.

"Which I think is a good thing when it comes to criminals but the mayor…he's somebody you really wanna impress so I was wondering if you could just-"

"Y'know, Captain," Brenda interrupted. "I have a lotta nice clothes, I just don't like to overdress at work."

"Absolutely! And you know what?" Raydor leaned onto the little cabinet by the door. "There's no one who would ever accuse you of that."

Backhanded compliment much?

Brenda clamped her mouth shut before she could tell that woman exactly what was on her mind, yet in wonder about how familiar they were with one another that allowed for such comments to be completely inconsequential and without repercussions.

"But we want the mayor's first impression of you to be as a woman capable of handling a lot of power."

The blonde smiled a bit at the notion.

"So look at you and think something like…" Raydor's gaze wandered over her body as she came continuously closer. "Wow! I am powerful, smart and sexy…"

Brenda sucked her lower lip in. "…sexy?"

Raydor blinked at her, that smirk gracing her features again. "Yes," she said quietly, "sexy."

The blonde swallowed as she suddenly felt extremely hot.

"There's nothing wrong with it, Chief. Sex appeal is a powerful tool, a female strength."

And there went the hotness.

Brenda suddenly felt a little toyed with. "Alright then." Out of petulance, she grabbed her purse and took it with her to the desk where it was in safety.

"Wear a dress."

"Okay."

"We don't want you to come across as too power-driven, men feel intimidated by that, we want to…soften the edges a little instead."

A dress it was then, Brenda already had one in mind.

"Let's face it, Chief, you're just not what the mayor might expect."

Brenda smiled a bit disbelieving at Raydor who was sitting across from her. "You mean because I'm a woman?"

"No, because most candidates for Chief of Police run popularity contests and you're not especially politically well liked or even friendly."

The blonde pulled out her lipstick; she had to reapply it after sucking on her bottom lip thanks to Raydor. "I'm not interested in politics…at all."

"Exactly. And that's why you won't blame the mayor for the LAPD's budgetary crisis or publicly demand that he fix it. Chief!" Brenda smacked her lips while Raydor stole her purse again and deposited it on the chair next to her. "Okay. There is a reason that this is a short meeting in the afternoon because all the mayor really wants to know is how the two of you will get along." Raydor narrowed her eyes at her suggestively and pursed her lips for a moment.

She did have Brenda's attention then.

"Think of it as a…chemistry test."

Brenda shook her head slowly as she stared at Raydor's lips again. "Chemistry..?"

"Yes," the woman replied bluntly. "And to make sure that you'll get a good grade, I brought notes that we should go over."

"Notes?"

"On the mayor…" Raydor replied as if Brenda had gone dense all of a sudden. "Sometimes it has to be helped along a little." Her green eyes trailed over Brenda's features. "Chemistry doesn't always come naturally…"

* * *

When Brenda finally made it home, she was exhausted.

Hours of Raydor one-on-one time had worn her out. To top it off, she now had to choose a dress for the interview tomorrow. She took out something floral first but abandoned that idea rather quickly then her eyes fell on the little black dress and the funeral number, both of which would work, she thought.

Then there was the midnight blue one.

And the red one.

Her parents had bought her the dress for her birthday, or rather, they had sent the money for it – that had been five years ago yet the dress still seemed to comport with Raydor's vision of what she called current fashion. Brenda let her fingertips trail over the plastic cover as she sucked her lower lip in for the second time that day.

She wouldn't wear that one, that was for sure.

Brenda swallowed heavily, opened a drawer after making a snap decision and pulled out the pink satin slip. The blonde changed rather quickly and crawled onto the bed, trying to read the numbers on the alarm clock. Fritz wouldn't be home for a while.

Sighing, Brenda decided to distract herself with work until her bigger distraction would walk through the door. She was just feeling tense today…

Brenda plugged in Judy Lynn's laptop and waited, lying down on the bed, until it had finished loading.

She glanced down at her own breasts straining against the silken material and remembered in vivid detail and full Technicolor how Raydor had leaned across her desk today, with her blouse unbuttoned a little too far, and how Brenda had caught a glimpse of her white, embroidered bra…and her breasts.

Brenda cleared her throat then took a deep breath which was when she thought she noticed a distinct scent. It had followed her around all day but only because it had been attached to Raydor, now though the woman wasn't there but still it seemed to linger. Brenda sniffed on her shoulder then her hands and then finally her hair.

Nothing.

Closing her eyes, Brenda laid back on the bed.

She was going insane.

Curling up on her side, she just laid there for a bit, trying to think of anything other than that woman.

By the time Fritz came home from work, Brenda had already found a worthy distraction in Judy Lynn's online diary, she had also called Lieutenant Tao and had decided on which purse and which shoes would go with which dress.

Fritz found her like that sitting in the walk-in closet, wearing her pink slip and staring into space.

"Honey?"

The look she gave him told him that he was about to end up as dinner.

* * *

"How about this one?"

Fritz squinted from his position on the bed. "It's nice."

"Just nice?" Brenda turned and presented him with her backside.

"No," Fritz said slowly. "It's very nice. Very…professional. Isn't that what you're trying to go for?"

It was the second dress Brenda had tried on and presented to him. "Nooo. I'm looking for…for…" She squinted at her own reflection then frowned. "Wow, I'm powerful, smart and sexy."

"Sexy?"

"Yes," Brenda put her hands on her hips, "it's one of my feminine strengths. There's nothin' wrong with bein' a little sexy."

Fritz nodded seriously. "Okay…how about you try on another one?"

The blonde sighed and picked up a dress she had laid onto the dresser earlier. Fritz waited and closed his eyes while doing so. Meanwhile, Brenda slipped into the LBD, the little black dress, hoping that this would be the one.

Truth be told, Brenda had had a dress in mind since Raydor had told her to dress up for the occasion but hadn't even taken it out of the closet. She just plain refused to go with anything Raydor inspired in her and since she couldn't ignore her anymore at work, Brenda had all the more reasons to not wear that dress and at least ignore Raydor in her personal life.

Where Raydor certainly didn't belong anyway.

"How about this one?"

Fritz blinked at her and nodded immediately. "You look amazing."

"You think?"

"Yeah! You should wear this one."

Brenda smiled and looked herself over in the mirror. "Alright then…"

The next morning, Brenda stood in the exact same spot, looking herself over in the mirror, yet she wasn't smiling. The dress looked great, that was for sure but it wasn't _the one_.

It was ridiculous, really, to not wear a perfectly fine dress just because she had immediately thought of it when she had looked at Raydor.

"I thought we had already decided last night that this was going to be the one?"

Brenda jumped and looked at Fritz over her shoulder. "It's just…"

"Hey," he hugged her from behind, "if you don't feel comfortable in it you should just wear something else."

The blonde bit her lip.

She really did want to wear that red dress.

Brenda stormed into her closet and took out the dress that she had let her fingers glide over a million times in the last 10 hours. She was very careful to not get anything on it when she was putting it on; it still fit like a second skin which was one of the reasons why Brenda loved the dress; another was that her breasts looked amazing in it.

"Wow!" Fritz said as she came out of the bathroom.

"Yes?"

"Yeah. You look powerful, smart and sexy."

Brenda grinned from ear to ear, tempted to blush but didn't while she twirled around in front of the mirror. "You think Raydor will like it?" Her butt looked _incredible!_

"You mean the mayor."

Brenda blinked, once, twice. "Raydor, the mayor, it's all just the same," she answered nonchalantly, wondering briefly if that constituted as a Freudian slip.

But, being completely honest with herself, Brenda had imagined what Raydor would think of this dress from the moment she had thought of wearing it. With Raydor completely ignoring her Brenda had started to miss it…and all just because there were more important things to Raydor than some silly little attraction, like Brenda becoming the next Chief of Police for instance.

And, of course, Brenda was married, that was way more important, even more important than becoming Chief.

She also wasn't really attracted anymore…_just a little excited, that's all, _she thought to herself.

But there was nothing wrong with getting a little recognition, an appreciative look, a lingering glance once in a while. It was all gone yet the eerie familiarity between the two, the intimacy of two people sharing a secret, was still there and it was unnerving.

It was the very thing that made Brenda choose this dress; to impress Raydor and maybe get a reaction out of her, a lingering glance.

The whole thing was one big provocation and if she got the reaction she wanted out of Raydor it might very well end up being the neon-sign blinking over her head, announcing that little thing they had going on, or rather not going on anymore, to whomever happened to be in the same room.

But Brenda wanted to see desire in the woman's eyes, simple as that.

The blonde trailed her hands down over her body, smoothing the dress down almost sensuously; it was perfect. Brenda wondered if Raydor would think the same thing.

Brenda had often wondered in the beginning, when they had met, if Raydor ever thought about her, if she ever fantasized about her, if she ever thought of touching her. Brenda was pretty sure that the woman would once she saw her dressed like this.

What would she think though?

Would she want to kiss Brenda?

Touch her breasts…or maybe her butt, all of which looked just amazing in red.

Would Raydor want to shove the dress up over her hips and-

"Don't be nervous."

Brenda jumped and turned around to Fritz who was standing in the doorway, watching her.

"You'll do great," he said and came closer. "I gotta go," he kissed her softly on the temple while Brenda just wanted to wriggle out of his grasp, run into the bathroom, lock the door and bawl her eyes out. "Good luck…"

He hugged her tightly for a moment and Brenda just nodded into his chest.

"I'll talk to you later."

"…okay," she said, her voice small.

"I love you!"

"Love you too…" Brenda stared after him, holding her breath until she heard the front door close. Her gaze turned to the mirror again.

At that moment the shame was almost unbearable.

It was the first time Brenda had the distinct feeling that whatever she and Raydor were doing wasn't a mere game at all.

* * *

When Brenda got into work that day, her mind already on the interview, and feeling all the eyes on her, trailing her progress throughout the building, she felt once again validated in her belief that one should not overdress at work no matter how unfashionable certain people said that made one look.

Entering Major Crimes, she immediately caught sight of Provenza who appraised her form from afar. "Not a word, Lieutenant Provenza!"

She strutted past several desks and met Flynn's mischievous eyes. He greeted her with raised eyebrows, meaning he wouldn't be silenced no matter what Brenda threw his way. "You look amazing, Chief."

Brenda had the decency to smile at him. "Thank you, Lieutenant," she replied tersely and disappeared into her office from which she could observe everyone chuckling at her expense. She dumped her purse on her desk and marched back into the murder room. "Where's Lieutenant Tao?"

"In the Media Room with Buzz," Sanchez replied, snickering behind his computer.

Brenda let her icy gaze wander about the room yet couldn't hide her own amusement completely. "Gentlemen…" She swept past them all and down the hallway, all the way keeping her eye out for Raydor.

Brenda wasn't sure whether to be disappointed or relieved that the woman wasn't there yet. One hour later though, bent over and staring at the screen over Buzz's shoulder, the door flew open, revealing Raydor complete with stunned look on her face.

"Chief!" The woman's voice had risen somewhat as her eyes had landed on Brenda's form.

The blonde waited, the anticipation had almost killed her all morning, and now that the moment was finally there, she could barely keep it together.

What would Raydor say?

"You look…great!"

Brenda's face fell. "Thank you, Captain," she said.

_Just great?_

"I made a reservation for us downs-"

"Oh, I don't have time for breakfast actually…"

Raydor swept into the room. "Why? What are you doing?"

"Tryin' to find out the exact time Marc Torres's car was keyed…" She felt Raydor's presence behind her, she could even feel the warmth radiating off her body and then she could hear her breathe slowly and evenly into her ear.

Or, perhaps, she was just imagining it.

Which seemed to be the problem of the day.

Brenda swallowed heavily, guilt settling into the pit of her stomach; a little recognition wasn't so bad, an appreciative glance wasn't either…

But wanting it this bad?

And wanting it still despite the guilt?

It left Brenda utterly confused and with nothing but shame.

* * *

Somebody knocked on her door but Brenda didn't have to turn to know who it was. The door swung open and closed gently then Raydor appeared behind her, glancing over her shoulder to see what Brenda was seeing in the mirror.

"I was tempted to bring a uniform to escort you across the street…"

The blonde was thankful for the Captain's easy approach, having had enough of the continuous pressure of the past days. "Oh, that's not necessary."

"May I ask you a question?" Raydor leaned onto the cabinet again and regarded Brenda with a calmness that almost felt infectious.

"Sure, Cap'n, why not…"

"Do you really not wanna be Chief of Police?"

"No, I don't," Brenda answered immediately.

"And as a woman don't you feel an obligation to at least give it a try?"

"As a woman I feel I've earned the right to options and one of these options should be to say no."

"You don't think that I wanted to spend my career in Internal Affairs, doing a job that leaves me disliked and mistrusted by my fellow officers every day of my life?"

Brenda blinked.

"No, I chose I.A. because I thought it was the quickest way to achieve rank. And I also thought that it would be good for the Department to see a woman in a Captain's uniform and of course, you got your job the old fashioned way…"

"How's that?" The blonde asked confused.

"By sleeping with the boss," Raydor stated bluntly and went on to explain herself once she noticed Brenda's expression. "It's not an insult, it's a time honored way of moving forward but those roads are not open to everyone and you have the chance to maybe change that a little."

"So, you're sayin' I should take the job whether I want it or not."

"Yes. Please, make the oh-so-terrible sacrifice of accepting a promotion that offers you more money, prestige and power than any other job in the city. And if it will help you with the suffering, you'll not only be a positive role model for little girls _all_ over this country but I personally will feel very…"

Raydor paused and went over the speech she had obviously not prepared. "I will feel very proud to have a Chief that I can truly admire."

Brenda went still at the words, stunned by their impact. Raydor had just told her in no uncertain terms that she thought Brenda had slept her way up the ladder now and then, yet she had also made it clear that she believed Brenda deserved it all.

The blonde never apologized for her power or for the way she did her job; she stepped on toes, asked uncomfortable questions without concerning herself with the possible political repercussions of her actions. Brenda did not apologize and that was one of the reasons why she was so good at what she was doing.

And Raydor knew that – the Captain herself was a woman that rarely apologized for the power she had claimed for herself and she didn't expect a thank you for the sacrifices she had made.

All she really seemed to care a lot about, all she really craved was respect from her fellow officers for being one of them, for doing the job she was doing to the best of her abilities and now she was showing Brenda that respect openly, honestly and with a certain hope in her eyes.

"Well…thank you, Captain."

Raydor held out her hand and Brenda grasped it firmly. "It's my pleasure, Chief."

The Captain smiled at her, genuinely, almost affectionately and Brenda couldn't help but smile back the same way.

Then there was still the matter of the purse.

Brenda had chosen it that morning, having already had it in the back of her mind since she had thought of wearing the red dress. She felt Raydor's eyes boring into her back as her hand disappeared in her black purse.

Raydor actually gasped quietly as the little faux-snake handbag appeared and plastered what she presumably hoped was a pleasant smile onto her face.

At least this time Brenda had gotten the reaction she had been looking for.

"See ya…" Grinning coyly at the Captain, Brenda let her eyes sweep over her one last time.

Outside, looking across the street at City Hall, admiring it, Brenda felt a small smile tuck on the corners of her lips. The building's outline was clearly visible on every single one of the LAPD's badges. She thought of Alice Wells, the first female police officers hired by the LAPD back in 1910. What a long time ago that was, yet Alice paved the way for other police women all over this country.

The blonde held her head higher – she had the chance to do the same thing, she had the chance to become the first female Chief of Police of the LAPD and maybe change a thing or two along the way.

She strode ahead, thinking that maybe Raydor had been right.

Maybe she should just take one for the team.

* * *

"How did it go?"

Brenda almost jumped out of her own skin as Raydor practically accosted her the second she left City Hall.

"You should really work on your timin', Captain," Brenda mumbled under her breath and glanced at the woman in question who had sidled up to her and was staring at her with a prompting look on her face.

"Well?"

Sighing, Brenda smoothed down her red dress and strode toward the street. "Good, I guess."

"Just good?"

"I can't say…"

Raydor sighed quietly. "What did you talk about?"

"First I told him that I had to drop everythin', includin' a case in which we were just makin' an arrest and all because I had to go see him…"

The woman beside her gasped, a horror-stricken expression befalling her features. "You did not say that."

"I did," Brenda said nonchalantly yet couldn't help the smirk finding its way onto her lips. "In a nice way. And the mayor was very impressed with his own importance…"

Raydor trailed a step behind her for a few moments until they reached the traffic lights. "What happened next?"

"Well, we chatted a bit."

"About?" The Captain inquired impatiently.

"About how we both grew up on military bases. His father was with the Air Force, as you know…"

"That's good," Raydor mused, her voice huskier than usual. "You've got something in common, that's always a plus."

When they arrived at HQ and walked across the granite to the entrance, Brenda felt immediately better. This was where she belonged – if she should make Chief of Police, she would of course have to take the job and do it to the best of her abilities.

If she liked it or not.

But this was where she belonged.

"Chief?"

Brenda snapped out of her thoughts and blinked at Raydor.

"I was able to get reservations for dinner. We now have a table at the-"

"Oh," the blonde interrupted shakily. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Captain."

The woman blinked at her, unsure of what to think of that response, trying to decide if she should play dumb or just accept that she had been shot down. Raydor straightened then held the door open for her, usually Brenda was the one who ended up doing it but not today. "After you, Chief."

Apparently Raydor had chosen the latter.

"Thank you, Captain, thank you very much."

"And Chief?"

Brenda halted, standing too close to the woman than was appropriate as said woman held the door wide open for her and for everyone inside who was nosy enough to look up every time someone entered. "Yes…Captain? What is it?"

"You know, you do look…" Raydor's eyes strayed downward and Brenda blushed suddenly at how the woman's eyes caressed her curves.

"Great?" The blonde finished with false bravado.

"Hmm," Raydor hummed and brought her eyes back upon Brenda's. "Like you're capable of handling a whole lot of power…but great works too."

Brenda bit her lip to hide the grin slowly spreading across her features but didn't quite succeed. Her eyes darted into the building and the people currently occupying the entrance hall then back to Raydor. "You know what? Let's have dinner. My treat."

The Captain's eyebrows lifted slowly in surprise.

"As a thank you for all your help…"

Raydor let the door fall shut again and smoothed down her blazer affectively. "That is very kind of you, Chief, but really not at all necessary. I was merely-"

"Humility? Now? Seriously, Captain?"

The brunette shrugged almost imperceptibly. "I was merely doing my duty."

They started walking in another direction and right past the new café they had added to the new HQ building. "I thought…"

Raydor lifted her eyebrows at her. "You don't think I'm going to take you there for dinner, do you, Chief?"

"You're not?" Brenda wondered aloud then schooled her features to seem a little less surprise. "You're not, of course." She almost didn't want to ask but had to. "So…where're we goin'?"

Raydor said nothing but gave her that tight smile that meant that she was growing impatient and annoyed at a rapid pace.

Brenda just rolled her eyes and hurried after the woman. "Guess that means it's a surprise…"

* * *

"Oh, no!"

Raydor startled a bit at the unexpected noise in her car.

"Oh, nooo," the blonde wailed as she twisted in her seat to look around.

Raydor sighed inwardly and glanced back and forth between the road and the woman repeatedly. "I may regret asking this but…what is it?"

Dinner had been a somewhat awkward affair; at least in the beginning. Brenda had felt much more at ease after half a glass of Merlot which Raydor had ordered for her. It made the blonde wonder if the Captain had a little file on her lying around in her office somewhere.

Surprisingly they hadn't run out of things to talk about; granted, most topics ended with momentary silence as either one or both of them seethed quietly.

They were now riding in Raydor's car; the Captain had offered to drive Brenda home but momentarily Brenda hem-ed and haw-ed with an expression on her face that resembled a kid on the verge of a crying fit. "I just…it's just that I…forgot…my purse in my office."

"But it's right there." Raydor gestured at the purse in question then it dawned on her. "You mean the other one," she said disdainfully.

Brenda bit her lip and glanced out of the window, momentarily silenced by the Captain's impatient tone. "It's just, it got my glasses in it…and my car keys…"

"Wonderful," Raydor mumbled under her breath.

"All that stuff just don't fit into any of those tiny little things." Her voice took on a whiny note. "All I got room for is my cell phone, my wallet and that—oh, no! I forgot that silly key card thingy too."

"Well, aren't you lucky then that I didn't?"

"Yes," Brenda drawled. "Aren't I lucky…"

Raydor sighed and pursed her lips. "Fine," she said tersely. "We'll go get your purse."

* * *

Raydor trailed after her; tonight the woman seemed to have run out of energy. She seemed tired, Brenda thought.

Major Crimes was cast in darkness for the most part as they entered and moved towards Brenda's office. A bit of light illuminated the room, just enough for them to see where they were going and so it didn't come as a surprise to Brenda when Raydor immediately found the cabinet and leaned on it again.

The blonde looked around for her purse, it was hard to miss even in semi-darkness which Brenda didn't want to do anything to remedy, like turning on the lights for instance. Somehow this felt comfortable.

Bending over and leaning across her desk, Brenda went in search of the elusive purse but when she heard a sigh from behind her, the blonde straightened again and turned to look at Raydor. The woman was pinching the bridge of her nose, eyes tightly shut. "Cap'n? Are you alright?"

"Hmm?" Raydor's head snapped up. "Yes, of course." The brunette pressed her lips together then shook her head. "I've just been thinking that this whole dinner thing might have been a really, _really_…stupid idea." The Captain pushed herself up and went to the filing cabinet a couple steps to the right where she picked up Brenda's purse.

"Why would you think that?" The blonde asked after a moment of complete silence. Raydor said nothing, she just looked at Brenda with an expression of determined indifference on her face, intent on seeming less affected by all this than she really was, all the while holding onto the purse.

The blonde knew something too then, she smirked like Raydor always used to, like she did yesterday in Pope's office just to get Brenda to blush a bit but Brenda knew now as well; she knew that Raydor had just stared at her butt.

With a crooked smile on her lips Brenda stepped closer to Raydor and looked her over without shame and without guilt. "Did my purse help you underestimate me too?" She stepped even closer until she was up against the big purse Raydor held in front of herself like a shield. "But you know what's good about bein' underestimated by everyone around you?" The blonde felt the Captain exhale slowly, deliberately, as she placed her hands on the leather right next to Raydor's.

"You always got the element of surprise…" Brenda said barely above a whisper, momentarily intoxicated by the woman's scent; it swirled around her and went straight to her head like a heavy, sweet wine. The blonde bit her lip as Raydor's eyes dropped to her mouth and couldn't help but lean in further. To Brenda's surprise, the woman leaned in as well; she hadn't thought it would be that easy, that Raydor would be that easy.

Straightening and pulling the purse from Raydor's grasp, Brenda stepped past her with a small smile dancing around her lips. "Well…I think I'm gonna drive myself home, Captain…and thank you again for all you've done."

Raydor didn't turn.

"G'night…"

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Spoilers: Heavy for episode 610 "Executive Order".  
**

**Author's Note: **Once again, thank you all for the reviews! They really encourage me and help me keep going. Thank you so much, guys!

**Chapter Six:**

_**Executive Order**_

Brenda contemplated his words – what would Thomas Delk perceive as necessary changes? Where would his changes leave Major Crimes…and her?

The new Chief of Police, she thought mockingly, a guy who called himself Tommy.

"Speaking of dirtbags…" Provenza mumbled under his breath and nodded towards the window to the murder room.

Ding Dong halfway to her lips, Brenda froze mid-motion as her eyes fell on none other than Captain Raydor.

"There's no way out, Chief," Flynn commented.

There wasn't.

Raydor lifted her arm in that methodical way and glanced at her watch.

"Oh, that woman…" Brenda mumbled under her breath.

Raydor spotted Brenda and lifted her eyebrows in a silent request for the Chief's presence. The blonde had avoided her since yesterday, fully aware that there was an FID investigation pending but reluctant to go into the interview while the mayor was still in the decision process – at least that was what both Chief Pope and Commander Taylor had recommended…not that Brenda had objected much.

Putting her half-eaten Ding Dong on the table, Brenda decided to accept her fate and have that interview with Raydor.

Also, the woman would barge in here if she didn't hurry up and Brenda could really do without that, especially since Fritzy was here.

Her last run-in with Captain Raydor had left Brenda with a deeply engrained shame that overcame her as soon as a mere thought of the smart, bossy Captain entered her mind which happened at the most inopportune moments.

Imagining Fritz and Raydor in the same room let an immediate wave of dread wash over Brenda and the flash of intense panic which came so surprising and brutal, like a whack over the head with a two-by-four, nearly sent her heart into cardiac arrest.

In short, the mere idea blew her mind…and not in a good way.

Nothing had ever happened between them of course and Brenda was pretty sure that Raydor had no idea how bad the blonde was truly fairing because, certainly, no grown-up person would ever think even remotely like Brenda did.

It was silly.

And it shouldn't bother her…if things with Raydor weren't so-

It shouldn't bother her.

"Hello, Captain, what can I help you with?"

"Hmm," Raydor hummed, that annoying little smirk on her face again. "I think we both know why I'm here, Chief. I suggest we move this conversation to your office and get this over with as quickly as possible."

Releasing a shuddering breath, Brenda put on a smile. "Of course…let's get goin', shall we?"

The blonde felt like stomping her foot and throwing a tantrum; Fritz was there, everyone was there and to top it off, she would have to be alone with that woman for an undetermined amount of time. "After you, Captain." At least her office had glass walls so there was no-

"What are you doin'?" Brenda had tried to level her voice, trying to conceal even the slightest trace of panic, with which she did not at all succeed.

"This is a serious matter, Chief," Raydor said and closed the blinds. "It requires privacy."

Brenda said nothing, she just looked at the woman; she wore a skirt, she didn't often wear skirts anymore, what a shame really.

"I-" Raydor turned and paused for a moment, trying to assess the look on the blonde's face and what it had been aimed at just a mere moment ago. "I just heard about the newly appointed Chief of Police."

"Yes, well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Captain," Brenda said lightly yet with a sarcastic undertone.

Raydor didn't seem fazed, she just sat down, dropped her purse on the floor and crossed her legs. "You haven't disappointed me, Chief," she replied honestly. "It's the mayor I'm disappointed in." Her gaze turned contemplative for a moment. "Chief Delk." She tried the name out. "I couldn't be prouder."

A breathy laugh escaped Brenda's lips. "So…"

Raydor opened her purse and pulled out a file folder which she deposited noisily on Brenda's desk. Another one followed then she produced a tape recorder and her notepad and pen.

Taking a controlled, even breath, Raydor pushed a button on the recorder. "Captain Sharon Raydor interviewing Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson regarding the officer involved shooting that took place yesterday, September-"

_Click._

Raydor looked up from her notepad, eyes wider than usual, questioning, yet with a hint of anger boiling under the surface.

Brenda couldn't help it, she had to take control whenever she was in Raydor's presence; she needed it and also somehow, sickly so, enjoyed seeing the Captain shaken up by her sheer audacity.

Putting the recorder back down, Brenda smiled slightly. "Do we have to do this now?"

Raydor, caught off guard, hesitated for a moment before she glanced at her watch again. "It's been 16 hours, Chief. So, yes, we have to do this now." The Captain lunged for the recorder, as did Brenda, who got a hold of it first.

Smirking victoriously and with a pointed look, Brenda let the device drop into the drawer usually reserved for candy and secret obsessions. Her eyes fell upon the remaining Ding Dongs; two, only two left. Brenda took them out, closed the drawer and stood. Today she would not feel bad. Today she deserved a break.

Brenda rounded her desk, turned the second visitor's chair around to face Raydor and sat delicately, legs crossed.

The Captain sat still in her own chair as she observed the Chief going through the motions, she merely watched in irritation and honest confusion. At last, she rolled her eyes or rather, stared at the ceiling, something she only did when she had to calm her nerves, Brenda had found out, then brought her gaze upon the blonde. "What's that?" The Captain's eyes stared indignantly at the Ding Dong Brenda was holding out to her.

"It's…delicious. You should try it."

Raydor reached out. Brenda held her breath – would she let their fingertips touch? Would she dare?

She did dare, quite boldly so. Their fingertips touched and Brenda couldn't help but stare at them. "I usually don't indulge in such things," Raydor said quietly, her voice low as she pulled the Ding Dong from Brenda's grasp.

For a moment the dream flashed before Brenda's eyes. The white cream filling on the very tip of Captain Sharon Raydor's finger as it disappeared in her mouth, a tiny speck left behind on her upper lip just begging to be licked off, to be devoured and savored. Brenda swallowed heavily and realized with a shameful amount of disappointment that the Captain had deposited the Ding Dong on the desk.

If the woman wouldn't indulge then Brenda might as well have to. She opened the wrapping and bit into the soft cake at once. It was delicious, it always was. "Hmmm," her eyes closed and she let her head loll back a little in pleasure.

_Heavenly. _

Especially when mixed with the scent of Raydor.

Brenda's eyes snapped open and instantly focused on the woman before her. She had never seen that look on the Captain's face; actually, Brenda realized she had never seen that look on anyone's face before.

"Hm," that subtle noise was all that came out when Raydor's lips parted and her green eyes darted to Brenda's as if caught doing something they were not supposed to. "Chief…," she said breathily.

Brenda felt her pulse accelerate at the husky qualities of Raydor's voice. She felt hot all over again, she could hardly breathe and Raydor's scent seemed to envelope her. Brenda felt a tickle of arousal curl along her spine, something she should not feel, but there it was, unmistakably exciting, thrilling.

For a moment Brenda wanted to give the woman a thorough talking-to; she had distanced herself so far from the blonde that Brenda had started to believe that Raydor had gotten over her or rather over the attraction, tossing it aside as something silly and frivolous for the sake of a job she wouldn't even get herself.

Now there she was, tossing it all out the window as soon as that job wasn't in the mix anymore.

What happened next Brenda could hardly comprehend. An act of simplicity, yet it was the farthest they had ever gone before. Captain Raydor reached out, her hand slowly creeping over her thigh until it had bridged the very small distance between herself and Brenda's knee.

The blonde sat impossibly still, heart pounding so vigorously that her body almost shook under the increased blood pressure; it was so intense that Brenda thought that she might not survive this at all. When Raydor's fingertip touched her tentatively and daringly dipped into the hollow of a dimple, Brenda felt pure, unadulterated arousal sweep over her.

A warmth set into the pit of her stomach, the incredibly pleasant yet piercing stab of desire between her legs let Brenda's skin flush…_oh, for heaven's sake_, she thought, suddenly afraid of losing the battle against her own body.

She released a shuddering breath through her slightly parted lips and stared at Raydor from beneath her eyelashes.

The woman was staring right back at her, as her almost imperceptibly shaking hand moved up, the fingertip tickling maddeningly along Brenda's skin. Raydor's gaze was hard, unwavering and burning so hotly that Brenda felt her neck, her chest, the skin right between her breasts dampening with perspiration.

Penetrating, that was what that look felt like. Penetrating and telling, allowing Brenda a glimpse of Raydor's thoughts…desires.

Raydor wanted her and it was the first time she had admitted it that openly.

Brenda licked her lip, breathing growing increasingly labored as a pulsing sensation set in between her crossed legs.

She had believed it impossible that any one person could do that to another but here she was, holding onto the very chair she was sitting on and incapable of uttering a single word. All she could really do was to think about the things that woman could possibly make her feel, things nobody else had ever made her feel. Brenda knew that Raydor must experience the same; she had seen the tremble, had witnessed the struggle in her green eyes.

The so put-together Captain Raydor was trembling with the effort to keep her actions proper, to obey the rules, but that touch, it was the one thing Raydor had let slip out of her controlling grasp because she could, quite obviously, not at all help herself.

Brenda bit her lip as the realization, that she had defeated Captain Raydor like this, sent a wave of satisfaction over her which did nothing to quench the flame within her as usual; instead Brenda felt her own heartbeat pulsing wildly between her legs.

A little embarrassed by her own reaction, she lowered her eyes to that one fingertip again. It reached the very hem of her skirt. Her eyes fluttered shut. Her nipples hardened unexpectedly.

This should not be happening.

A gasp escaped her lips and Raydor stopped moving at the sound.

They shouldn't be doing any of this. They shouldn't even be entertaining the idea of doing any of this.

Raydor pulled her hand back and clenched it into a fist momentarily to gain some semblance of control, her eyes rolling back, focusing on the ceiling as she inhaled shakily.

For a moment they sat in stunned silence then Raydor said:

"Chief…I think-"

"Don't," Brenda interrupted feebly, the word barely making it past her lips. "Don't-Don't-"

"I think-"

"Don't say anything, Cap-"

"I feel the need to address the-"

A knock on the door interrupted them and they both whipped their head around as the door opened surprisingly. Fritz poked his head in. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, a confused expression crossing his features as he found his wife not behind her desk as expected but sitting next to Raydor.

"It's alright," Brenda mumbled.

"I uh, I have to drop by the office real quick but I see you at home later."

"I'll see ya at home," the blonde replied. "Bye now…"

Fritz narrowed his eyes at her questioningly but let it go. "See you later, Brenda. Captain."

Raydor nodded back at him. "Agent Howard."

As the door closed, Brenda felt at first relieved then a bout of anxiety bubbled up inside her.

And as if Raydor had read her mind, the woman spoke aloud exactly what Brenda had been thinking. "You're married," she stated with a voice that had dropped so dangerously low, it was barely above a whisper.

"I'm married," Brenda repeated and cleared her throat.

Raydor let out a breathy, humorless laugh, her eyes wandering from one corner of the room to the next. "You are my superior officer."

Brenda nodded. "I am."

"Oh, god," Raydor whispered, her voice shaking.

It was all going to hell, Brenda thought to herself as their eyes met. She shifted a bit, turned a bit, knowing that this could not be yet reluctant to let go of the very idea.

Their legs touched just barely and at that moment Brenda didn't think about the consequences, about right and wrong, not even about Fritz but about how much she wanted to be pushed up against the desk, about how much she wanted Captain Raydor pressed up against her and about how much she wanted the woman's hand shoved up her skirt.

"We…" Raydor started, sitting still, eyes moving about the room again. "We could…meet somewhere, in a hotel…" She said slowly and quietly.

Tears sprang unexpectedly to Brenda's eyes as she covered her lips with her fingertips to prevent the words sitting on the very tip of her tongue from spilling out and ruining everything.

_When? Where? _

Instead Brenda took a deep breath and looked Sharon in the eye. "I'm married."

"Yes, I know." Raydor whispered slowly as if talking to a dense person.

Wasn't it just precious that the woman was perfectly willing to break the rules for her?

Brenda shot up out of her chair and rounded the desk; she sniffled a bit, her eyes drying slowly as she composed herself. "I don't think we should conduct this interview with the blinds closed…don't you think, Captain?"

Raydor nodded through her confusion then cleared her throat. "That is a…very wise proposition, Chief."

"Alright," Brenda said but more to herself. "Let's get this over with…" She was about to round her desk again to draw the blinds when Raydor stepped right into her way. Brenda recoiled slightly, surprised at the sudden presence and the trademark smirk the woman sported. Raydor leaned in, still smirking, and for a moment Brenda was absolutely sure that she would kiss her yet was too stubborn to move and prevent her from doing so.

Instead however, Raydor reached down between them and once the edge of the candy drawer poked Brenda in the thigh, she realized what the Captain was really after – the tape recorder.

Raydor held it up between them and smirked. "I think I might need this first if there is to be any such interview."

Brenda recovered quickly as they fell back into their old game. "Of course," she drawled, smiling indulgently. "How silly of me…"

The Captain hummed in agreement, folding her arms across her chest as Brenda swept past her to attend to the blinds.

The blonde felt eyes on her – Gabriel was glancing through the window at her, Tao was working on his computer, Sanchez was arguing back and forth with Provenza and Raydor kept staring at her back.

"It's ironic, isn't it?"

Brenda turned, eyebrows raised. "What is?"

"We used to need chaperones in order to keep us from getting into physical altercations. Now we need them to keep us from getting into physical _escalations_ of a whole different sort," she said slowly, calmly, as if she had just stated the obvious.

"Well," Brenda stalled, not knowing what to say to that and realizing in the same instance that there wasn't much one could say in response to what appeared to be a well-known fact, at least between the two of them. "It can't be helped…after what just happened, I trust neither one of us." She glanced at the woman as she rounded her desk and sat down. "Well then, whenever you're ready, Captain Raydor."

The woman smirked; it wasn't the superior-smirk but the amused-smirk this time. "Very well, Chief Johnson." Raydor put the tape-recorder down on the desk between the two of them and pressed the record button. "I'd like to note that Chief Johnson interrupted the interview to…indulge in a…chocolaty-"

Brenda's jaw dropped. "You're not gonna put that in your report, are you?" She asked incredulously and at the same time lunged halfway across the desk to get a hold of the recorder.

Too late. Raydor held it up victoriously. "Of course I am. Every FID investigation has to be properly documented, Chief, I'm sure you're-"

"Well," Brenda interrupted, "perhaps you should also document your little escapade which was completely inappropriate by the way or shall we talk about-"

_Click._ Raydor sighed, her eyes focusing on the ceiling again. _Click._

"What are you doin'?" Brenda asked, leaning onto her desk.

Raydor shot her a pointed look. "I'm rewinding the tape."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh. I'd appreciate it if we continued this without any further interruptions, Chief Johnson..?"

Her hand covering her knee, trying to stop the tingle that was still curling pleasantly along her spine, Brenda put on a brave smile even though her insides were up in knots. "Of course, Captain Raydor, go right ahead."

* * *

The only time in her life Brenda had ever had an affair was back in D.C. when she had fallen in love with Will.

It had been a head over heels kind of thing for her and in retrospect she knew that Will had loved her too but that didn't change the fact that he had been married which he had kept from her for a long time and when Brenda had found out, it had already been too late for her, she had already been in love.

It was somewhat ironic that Brenda was better than a lie detector; on a good day she could detect a lie by the mere way somebody blinked, she heard a lie in people's voices, their intonation gave them away, the words they used. She could see a lie in somebody's features; did their expression match their emotions or, simpler yet, which way did they look when they spoke?

Did they fidget, did they avoid her gaze, did they blush, cough, talk too fast, stare too long or sweat?

Yet, when Will had told her what many men had told many women before, that he would leave his wife for her, that he would get a divorce and that they would be together, get married and live the life she had always dreamed of, Brenda had believed him.

Not because she had been convinced of his sincerity but because she had really, really wanted to believe it.

Days had stretched into weeks and weeks into months.

He had dumped her eventually which hadn't come all that unexpectedly to Brenda.

What should have been a fairytale come true, had turned into plenty of tears and heartache.

Nothing good could ever come of affairs; people get hurt, lives get torn to pieces, hearts get broken. Yet, knowing all that, Brenda couldn't keep her mind from going there, from thinking about affairs and sex and Captain Raydor.

Brenda slumped forward in her seat, her forehead coming to rest on the steering wheel, her arms hugging her own stomach.

That was how she sat there that evening in her car at the side of the road.

After her interview with Raydor, Brenda had organized her files, had filled out paperwork, had advised Lieutenant Provenza to call her if they should pick up a Major Crime…no matter how small it was.

She had stalled, had told Fritz that she would be a little late.

It was now 9.37 P.M. and if she hadn't run out of things to do she would have stayed at work for as long as possible.

Hugging her upset stomach, Brenda closed her eyes, breathing slowly and evenly while trying to stop her mind from racing. It just would not stop. Not even for a minute. Her hair, which had been in a bun until halfway through the interview with Raydor, was now loose and spilling over her shoulders and face. Brenda breathed in its scent which proved to be oddly soothing.

_When? Where?_

Those two words had haunted and tormented Brenda all day long, they were also the cause of her upset stomach, the headache that threatened to turn into a migraine and the overall sickly ill feeling.

_When? Where?_

It was terrifying how incredibly close Brenda had come to giving in, how her body, the adrenaline, the hormones had almost completely overruled her brain.

Simple desire couldn't do that to you, it couldn't turn off the rational part of your mind, it couldn't make you forget about who you were and what kind of life you were leading. It couldn't make you forget about your husband and about how much you loved him.

The truth was simple, yet shocking: She had fallen in lust.

She had fallen utterly, desperately, completely, irrevocably, head over heels in titillating, carnal, all-consuming lust.

At least, Brenda thought, she hadn't fallen in love with the woman because that would have certainly ruined things.

The blonde let out a pathetic and sad little laugh and rubbed her stomach.

Even if she did have a thing with Raydor it technically wouldn't be an affair, Brenda reasoned with herself. An affair was about passion and all that, two people unable to keep away from each other, whispered words of love, romance in the dark, the thrill and excitement of doing the forbidden.

Her and Raydor? There were none of those feelings involved, no emotional waste to complicate things – she wanted sex and sex only.

That was only half as bad.

It didn't mean anything.

Brenda let out a long breath as a hot flash washed over her; it was growing so increasingly difficult to resist temptation, it was also becoming increasingly difficult to find reasons to keep doing so.

The blonde whimpered and sucked her lower lip in.

Raydor pressed up against her, her hand up her skirt, her-

_No, no, no! No._

Brenda released another long breath.

Her hand between her legs-

_No! Stop. You have to stop._

The blonde licked her lips, breathed in and out, in and out and hugged her stomach, blinking away the sordid images her mind kept conjuring up then she pressed her legs together tightly which did nothing to ease the throbbing between them.

_Oh, for heaven's sake…_

Raydor's hand up her skirt, in her underwear, her mouth latched upon Brenda's neck, lavishing it, sucking on the skin greedily while she was screwing Brenda beyond senseless.

Brenda eased her skirt up a little, further and further, panting in the small space of her car as she pressed her own hand between her thighs.

To hell with it, to hell with it all, she couldn't help it, she couldn't stop it, she couldn't keep going like this, feeling like this, she couldn't function, she just had to and besides, there wasn't really anything wrong with what she was about to do.

No one would know…

Wailing, Brenda slumped back in her seat and planted her hands firmly on the steering wheel.

"You're nuts…" She said to herself then covered her face with her hands. A sob wracked her body almost immediately.

She allowed a few tears to fall from her eyes, allowed another two or three sobs and then Brenda went still. _Get a grip on yourself_, she thought and sniveled, wiping at her eyes.

For a moment she felt utterly embarrassed by the warmth and the subtle wetness between her legs but decided to ignore all that and just get on home.

_Brenda Leigh, _she ordered,_ you're not goin' to think about this anymore._

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Spoilers: For episodes 309 "Blindsided" and 610 "Executive Order".  
**

**Author's Note: **It's going slow, I know but I hope you'll bear with me until things get interesting :) Thank you all for the kind reviews, they mean a lot and I really appreciate them!

**_Chapter Seven:_**

**Baggage Claim**

It was day one of her paid leave and already Brenda felt stifled in her own home.

She kept thinking that it was where people died; they died of loneliness and/or depression, they slipped in the shower and hit their head, they died of sitting around all day long, doing nothing except stuffing their faces with awful food.

Brenda was about to die of boredom – it was fairly rare but not unheard of.

She kept wondering what everyone at work was up to. Lieutenant Provenza was in charge of the squad now so they were probably loafing about in the murder room. And Will? What was he up to, typing up his résumé?

Brenda doubted it; they wouldn't just fire him.

Or would they?

The heart of the matter was that Brenda felt quite lucky to have not gotten the job. Being the Chief of Police meant duties that she just despised, it meant she couldn't work murders anymore, or rapes, or kidnappings which were all things higher on Brenda's list of priorities than pushing a stacks of paper from one corner of the desk to the other.

Brenda loved her job and she wouldn't be doing anything else.

Shooting and killing a suspect? Running that risk came with the job.

They had saved a lot of people.

It had been the right thing to do and it was mere coincidence that Brenda had pulled the trigger and not somebody else of her squad.

Brenda felt always regretful when she wasn't able to close a case properly, meaning with a confession, but needs must.

The whole thing was difficult to think about, at least for Brenda. She felt sort of ambivalent; she treasured human life and went after those who took it from somebody else, yet she tried to convince her own heart that she didn't feel at all guilty about what happened.

The truth was, Brenda swallowed heavily, she felt awful about it and it would take some time for her to heal.

Then there was still the matter of the lust. Carnal, intense and potentially dangerous.

Attraction was a funny thing; Brenda was very well capable of admiring a good looking man's form, she found strong jaws or muscular shoulders and backs or a perfectly formed butt to be very attractive.

But then there was the funny part where types and preferences didn't matter a bit when standing across somebody who just got to you, who just stirred something within you, who just felt right immediately despite not resembling the picture you had conjured up in your head.

Attraction just happened, which was why Brenda wasn't all that confused about being attracted to Raydor even though she didn't like her which had always been a sort of turn off before. What irritated the blonde however was her own lack of self-control.

Why was it that she couldn't put a stop to it all and walk away? Instead she kept falling in lust all over again whenever they crossed paths. That was the real problem, wasn't it?

Falling in lust, over and over with the same person.

It probably meant something, Brenda thought, but the meaning behind it all seemed strangely illusive.

Brenda had admitted to herself some time ago already that she was very attracted to Raydor, she had admitted that she wanted to sleep with the woman and there she was now, realizing that she might as well will end up doing so if she didn't get a grip on herself.

Brenda wanted it, wanted Raydor and the only thing standing between them was Brenda's resolve. She couldn't give in, that was out of the question, or she would end up inviting Raydor right into her bed.

She couldn't even think about that without her resolve crumbling slowly but surely.

"Brenda? What's for dinner?"

The blonde's head snapped up; she was sitting on the couch in her pajamas, nibbling on her nails. "Umm…" She looked at Fritz who had just gotten home from work.

"No dinner?" He asked evenly.

Brenda shook her head. "…sorry."

* * *

"Captain Raydor…" Brenda stared at the lone figure standing on her door step.

"Chief," the woman said, "I thought I'd deliver the news myself."

"What news?" Brenda asked immediately then remembered her manners. "Um, please come in…"

Raydor slowly stepped inside her home, glancing around as she did so, trying to get an even better sense of who Brenda was.

"I just made some coffee…you want one?" Brenda felt nervous all of a sudden. What was the woman doing here? Why did she come to her house anyway? Why didn't she call? "Milk, sugar?" The blonde asked on the way to the kitchen. "Fritz just left," she added for reasons unknown to her.

What surprised her more than her own statement was Raydor's answer. "I know," the brunette said, "I waited in the car until he left."

Brenda swallowed.

"And I take my coffee black, thank you," Raydor added evenly.

"So," Brenda grabbed a mug and poured the coffee. "What news?"

Raydor blinked at her when she handed over the coffee, letting their fingers touch quite deliberately. "I have closed my investigation into your OIS and came to the conclusion, as did the Inspector General, that all actions taken by you were justifiable…as expected."

As expected? That was a new one.

"Oh, and I scheduled an appointment for you with Behavioral Science on Friday at 9. Keep it, or you'll have to wait another week."

Brenda bit her lip. "Well…thank you, Captain. And thank you for…stoppin' by also."

"My pleasure, Chief."

They stood awkwardly next to the dining table, holding their mugs. Maybe Raydor hadn't thought this through, Brenda thought because it was clear the woman wanted something or else she wouldn't have shown up here, the execution of her plan however left much to be desired.

Desire…

Brenda breathed in the aroma of her coffee and took a sip of the hot beverage, which Raydor did also, in order to forget about the fact that Fritz had just left and that they were all alone in this house without anyone to babysit them, no chaperone, just the two of them and their mutual attraction.

"Uh, Captain, I think-I think it would be…better if you left…now."

A second ticked by in which they just stared at one another; in that instance Brenda knew that Raydor had no intention of leaving. It felt unexpectedly thrilling to admit to herself what she had known all along – Raydor wasn't here to deliver any news, she wasn't here for coffee and she wasn't here to chat.

"Why?"

Brenda blinked. "Why what?"

"Why are you telling me to leave when it's obviously not what you want..?" Raydor put her mug down on the table; the coffee was still steaming pleasantly.

The blonde turned and poured her own coffee down the drain. She stood there, at the sink, her head bowed and wondered why she had gotten herself into this. It would've been easier to slam the door in Raydor's face to begin with but instead Brenda had to invite her in – not to be polite but because Brenda couldn't have helped herself even if she had tried.

It was just something about that woman she couldn't resist, try as she might.

"I am…_very_…_very_ attracted to you."

The words could've been right out of Brenda's mouth but they weren't, they were Raydor's, spoken huskily, shakily, from right behind her. "I'm married," the blonde said and turned around despite knowing that it would be her undoing.

"I am aware of that," Raydor said slowly, her eyes darting about the kitchen. "But in case you haven't noticed," she went on, her eyes fixated on Brenda's, "I'm not asking for a…committed, long-term relationship." Her voice shook again as if in anger, Brenda was very familiar with that particular peculiarity of Raydor's.

"We don't like each other," the woman stated, her voice wavering further, "but I still find myself desiring you physically."

How very passionate, Brenda mocked inwardly yet felt something stir in her belly.

"…and I know that you feel the same way."

Truth was, Brenda did feel the exact same way. She wanted it, she really, really wanted it more than she could put into words. For a split-second Brenda was ready to throw caution to the wind and fall right into the woman's arms.

Raydor leaned in closer, so close that Brenda couldn't breathe in without smelling her. Her pulse immediately shot through the roof and Brenda blinked against a sudden bout of dizziness – it wasn't normal, she thought, it wasn't normal to feel this strong a pull towards another person.

"You…confuse me and antagonize me and make me feel as if I can't breathe in your presence," Raydor went on, her breath hitting Brenda's face in small puffs, as the woman towered over her. The blonde realized she was a whole lot shorter when she wasn't wearing heels and looking up at Raydor, at her lips that moved right before her eyes, Brenda too felt as if she couldn't breathe.

"…sometimes," the brunette's voice dropped dangerously, "when we're this close, I get aroused because I can't stop thinking about touching you."

Brenda gasped, mesmerized by the sound of Raydor's voice.

"And right now…I can't think about anything other than kissing you."

Perhaps it was inevitable? Brenda stared into Raydor's eyes – you couldn't feel about another person like this and not be supposed to do anything about it. Brenda's mind raced through all the possibilities; possibilities she had considered before, multiple times, which alone weighed heavily on her conscience.

No matter how many times she went over it, she always came to the same conclusion: it wasn't right.

"Cap-Captain, I don-"

"Sharon," Raydor murmured, leaning in further until they were actually, really touching, until they were flush against one another. "It's Sharon, Brenda…"

Brenda nodded, her whole body trembling with fear and excitement at once. _Oh, for heaven's sake._ Her insides had turned to goo, her thoughts were an utter mess, her breathing had turned erratic very quickly and her whole body was covered in a flush.

She clamped her mouth shut and glanced up at Raydor from beneath her eyelashes fully aware that she was about to make a decision that would change everything. Meanwhile Brenda felt Raydor's breath against her lips as the woman exhaled deceivingly slowly through her parted lips. Brenda swallowed and stared at them incapable of not doing so.

The things that mouth had said to her…

The things it could possibly _do_ to her…_oh, god!_

Brenda's nipples turned hard again, painfully so, and this time there was no blazer to cover it up with, this time Raydor would notice.

Brenda gazed into Sharon's…Raydor's eyes for a moment – god, she wanted it bad and even though nothing had happened, Brenda felt the arousal, the sheer want, the unadulterated desire spreading through her body and heating up her very center until the first bit of wetness dampened her underwear.

_Oh, for heaven's…_

"Sharon," she whispered, knowing it was what Raydor had been waiting for.

The woman inched closer, her hands grasping Brenda's upper arms gently – why did she have to be so inept at it? It didn't matter, the touch burned, it felt electric on her skin and Brenda felt goose bumps breaking out all over her body. She leaned back a little, still afraid as Raydor came closer and then Brenda just shut her eyes tightly; she waited, unmoving, not daring to touch the woman as well – that would make it look like she really, really, _really_ wanted it and not that she only wanted it just a little bit.

She couldn't _really_ want it, that was out of the question and yet, when Sharon was so close that Brenda felt her exhale against her lips, so close that she inhaled the woman with every breath she took, she did nothing to stop her, nothing at all because the truth was that even though it was cheating, she still wanted it to happen.

Her mind turned blank at the first touch of Sharon's lips on hers.

It wasn't at all like she had expected it to be. Firstly, Sharon wasn't particularly great at kissing; she wasn't really bad either…but maybe it felt a bit awkward because Brenda desperately tried to not kiss back. She had also thought that maybe Sharon's lips wouldn't be soft but they were, softer than anyone else's lips Brenda had ever kissed.

And she was warm. So warm and not cold at all.

Brenda gave up all pretenses and sunk into the kiss with a soft sigh.

Once she moved her own lips against Sharon's it felt completely different, it wasn't awkward at all; it was almost perfect, very close to it in fact. And then she felt Sharon's palm cupping her cheek, it was such a tender gesture, one she hadn't expected at all.

In the end though, which turned out to be mere seconds after their lips had connected, when Brenda already thought about doing more than just kiss, she realized that after this one, there couldn't be another. There would be no afterwards, there would be nothing waiting for them – they didn't even like one another for crying out loud!

And Fritz. She couldn't do that to Fritz!

Brenda drew back and immediately lowered her head, not yet ready to face what she had done.

"Let me guess," Raydor murmured. "You can't."

"I'm married," Brenda said once again, this time firmly. "And I intend to stay married for the rest of my life."

"Hmm," Raydor hummed and stepped back, her feet a bit unsteady. "People keep secrets all the time."

"Well," Brenda looked up defiantly. "I'm not very good at it. Now-"

"Right, a CIA trained interrogator not good at keeping secrets," the woman drawled.

"How on earth," Brenda cleared her throat and lowered her voice. "How on earth do you even know about that?" It didn't matter. "Oh, for heaven's sakes. You have to stop!" Brenda fussed with her hair. "You have to stop. This can't ever happen, do you understand? It can't happen and it never will…Captain."

Raydor stared at her for a long moment then her gaze dropped to the floor suddenly. Joel was schmoozing with her high heel. It would've been cute in any other situation.

To Brenda's surprise, Raydor picked him up; he licked her immediately, that little traitor, and then the Captain stepped closer again and deposited Joel in Brenda's arms. "Then I suggest that you stop sending me mixed signals also, Chief."

That was probably the iciest her voice had ever been.

Raydor left, letting herself out, while Brenda thought glumly that she had not ever sent any kind of signals at all.

With a sigh she sat Joel back down on the floor and her eyes fell on the mug Raydor had put on the table. Brenda picked it up and stared at the lipstick stain on the very rim. For some reason she couldn't or rather wouldn't want to comprehend, Brenda brought the mug to her lips and let them touch the stain – she remembered the kiss.

That kiss…

Brenda poured the coffee in the sink and scrubbed the mug clean then put it in the cabinet as if it had never been used, as if Raydor had never even been there.

Leaning back against the kitchen counter, breathing heavily from the fear coursing through her body, Brenda contemplated her next move.

It shouldn't have happened, that much was clear, but it wasn't like she had really done anything which was quite the relief. She may have kissed back for a second, reflexively because she was attracted to Raydor after all, no one could really blame her but, and that was the important part, she had told the woman off. She had stopped it, so, technically, nothing had really happened.

Brenda nodded to herself and licked her lips; she tasted a faint bit of lipstick…coffee…and Raydor. It was such a foreign taste, it always felt that way when you kissed somebody new. Fritz? She knew his lips, his taste, by heart.

Releasing a colossal breath, the blonde surveyed the kitchen.

She had to keep busy till her appointment, she also couldn't afford to over-think things. The shooting, for one. Not getting the job. She wiped at her mouth suddenly, trying to get the taste off.

Should she be worried that her mind kept going back to what Raydor had done in her office and to how Raydor had kissed her in her kitchen and not the shooting?

Anyhow, Brenda thought and opened a cupboard, why did they have so many boxes of unfinished cereal?

That was how it started, Brenda's big kitchen clean up. She ended up eating half of the left-over content of a box of Pebbles before she noticed that the expiration date had been reached about eight months ago. She did think that they tasted a little odd when she had shoved the first handful into her mouth…

She cleared the whole cupboard out and then went for the next which contained baking ingredients mostly and tea; they sure had a lot of that considering that they hardly ever drank any. Brenda found an opened, and probably rather old, pack of couverture chocolate which she ended up licking and nibbling on while clearing out that cupboard as well.

Then she munched herself through an almost empty jar of Nutella, a couple marshmallows, two strawberry flavored Pop-Tarts and a handful of peanut M&M's.

She also realized that they had way too many cups. There were the eleven ones that actually matched – one broke in the move – and two matching ones that Fritz had brought into the household. Brenda had always wondered why he had only two that matched but had always figure that it was a guy-thing. They also owned a variety of different mugs and cups that didn't match at all.

Way too many, she thought and got them all out while eating Caramel Nibbles, she seriously needed to get rid of some.

Brenda's ability to block certain memories, to suppress certain thoughts, was impressive, yet when she was confronted with a huge trigger, the cup Raydor's lips had touched only a couple hours ago, everything came flooding back.

Sliding down onto the floor, nibbling on a Nibble and staring at the coffee cup as if she had never seen it before in her life, Brenda started to realize that she had done a truly horrible thing.

"What's all this?"

The cup slipped out of her grasp and onto the floor; oddly enough, it didn't shatter.

Looking up at Fritz who was looking at the mess that was the kitchen, Brenda scrambled to her feet. "Oh…um…I just thought that, with all the time on my hands I could clean up this kitchen a little 'cause it really needs a good cleaning, I mean, the stuff I found-"

"Well," Fritz interrupted. "I guess that means no dinner…"

Biting her lip guiltily and looking around at the terrible mess she had made, Brenda's eyes fell upon the cup again. She practically lunged across the kitchen and picked it up, an odd sense of panic washing over her at having the pretty much invisible evidence of her almost-very-near-adultery lying around like that.

Brenda put on a smile as she hid the cup behind her back.

When Fritz leaned down to kiss her, Brenda did the one thing she never thought she would ever do to the one person she loved more than anyone else in the world.

She turned away.

* * *

"Mornin'." Brenda said cheerily as she stepped up to the friendly looking lady behind the desk. "I'm Brenda Leigh Johnson…I have an appointment with uh…"

She didn't really know; Raydor…the woman had neglected to mention a name right before she had molded their lips together.

Sheryl, that was the name of the woman behind the desk, started typing away on her computer then nodded. "There you are. Doctor Leonard is already waiting for you." She leaned forward a bit and whispered conspiringly. "She's the best we got."

Brenda's face had fallen at the mere mention of the woman's name.

"Doctor Leonard?" The receptionist spoke into the phone. "I have Chief Johnson for you."

"Send her in, please."

_Oh, for heaven's sake_.

"It's the door on the right."

"Thank you," the blonde replied, "thank you so much." Plastering a big smile onto her face, Brenda went through the door on the right and closed it carefully behind herself. Doctor Leonard was waiting for her near the chair Brenda had sat in the last time she had been here which had been approximately two years ago.

"Brenda, it's nice to see you again."

"Doctor Leonard…"

They shook hands.

"How have you been?"

Brenda smiled, not really meaning it of course, and sat, crossing her legs as she did so. "Oh, y'know…"

"I see you've gotten married."

Glancing down at her ring, Brenda nodded.

It took a whole five minutes before anybody said anything after that, and five minutes were a long time to spend in silence.

"So…you're not going to talk to me?"

Brenda smiled again. "The last time I talked to you I ended up gettin' shot at…"

"That was hardly my fault and you know that," Doctor Leonard replied calmly, her foot, encased in an expensive high heel, bobbing up and down. "You shot someone very recently."

The blonde blinked. "Yes," she said, still smiling.

"And how does that make you feel?"

Brenda shrugged and thought for a moment. "Upset…but not too upset. Sad…but not too sad. And a little scared…but not-"

"Too scared?"

"Yes. The perfect balance…"

Doctor Leonard started scribbling down notes, her foot bobbing up and down faster, the only indication that she was already unnerved by this particular patient. "Anything major going on in your life right now?"

Brenda shook her head, giving the question very serious thought. "No…no, not really, no."

"You were considered for the position of Chief of Police, I'd think that's something major…"

"Oh…but I didn't get the job, so…nothin' major goin' on," Brenda chuckled a bit airily but stopped once she noticed that Leonard wasn't amused.

"How do you feel about not getting the job?"

"Um…of course I'm a little upset but not too upset. A little relieved too I guess but-"

"Not too relieved. Got it." Doctor Leonard took a breath and blew it out from between her immaculately colored lips. "Do you think your recent shooting had something to do with that?"

The blonde shrugged, considered the question for longer than was necessary then nodded. "Probably."

Leonard blinked at her, pausing for a moment. "And how does that make you feel?"

"Oh, y'know…disappointed but not too-"

"Alright," Doctor Leonard interrupted, shutting her notepad. "You don't want to talk to me."

"That's right." Brenda smiled again.

"Just answer this one question," Leonard said seriously. "Are you going to be alright?"

Brenda shrugged. "Yes, of course. I did what I had to do and I wouldn't do anything differently if I could go back and do it all over," she said quickly, perhaps too quickly but her tone spoke volumes; Brenda didn't drive herself crazy with 'what ifs'…at least not where her work was concerned.

"…okay." The doctor opened her notepad again and wrote something down. "That doesn't really answer how you truly feel about what happened but-"

"I'm fine," Brenda interrupted, "just fine."

"Really?" Leonard raised her eyebrows at her, her gaze dropping. "You've been fiddling with your wedding ring from the moment you sat down in that chair. Now, is that just a thing you do…or a nervous habit?"

Brenda glanced down also, the smile on her face fading, as she saw her fingers twisting the ring around and around. She stopped immediately. "I do that all the time."

"When you're nervous?"

The blonde glanced away, angry at herself.

"Do I make you nervous?"

She said nothing.

"Is there something on your mind? Something you would like to talk about?"

"No!" Brenda screeched. "No, there's nothin' I wanna talk about. I'm fine, Fritz and I are fine, everything's fine."

"Fritz?" Leonard wrote that down. "Your husband, right?"

"Yes, no, I mean, yes but he's got nothin' to do with it."

"With what?"

"With—with—" Brenda breathed heavily through her nose. "Oh, that woman…"

Leonard blinked. "What woman?"

"She drives me nuts!" Brenda wailed now that it was just bursting right out of her. "Not that I'm nuts, I just get that way when she's around. Not that she's around a lot, we don't work closely together…I'm not her immediate supervisor or anythin'."

"Wait!" Doctor Leonard blinked at her again, thoroughly confused. "There's something going on with you and another woman? A woman you work with?"

"Yes," Brenda said without thinking. "No," she corrected herself. "Maybe. Not really. We're not havin' an affair or anythin' and we're certainly not going to."

Leonard exhaled slowly then traced her eyebrow with her perfectly manicured fingernail. "Um…I'm confused."

Brenda let out a laugh. "Well, you're certainly not the only one…"

The room went very quiet and Brenda started to realize what she had just blabbed about.

And how good it felt to finally talk to somebody about it!

"Since when has this been going on? Since the shooting?"

"No," Brenda said petulantly. "It's been goin' on a lot longer than that…but not—"

"Too long?" Leonard chuckled but stopped because this time her patient wasn't amused either.

"The thing is," Brenda said quietly, now a bit more serious. "We don't even like each other. Her and I. But…the first time we met, the first time I looked at her, I was immediately attracted to her…just wham, like that. And it took me a long time to come to terms with it." She sighed and glanced at the bouquet of flowers on the little table in the room.

Most of the flowers were purple…violet...lavender.

"You know what the worst part is?"

"Tell me…"

"She feels the exact same way." Brenda averted her eyes.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said, "she…suggested we meet somewhere and…she kissed me the other day. I told her I couldn't do it and now I'm wonderin' how I'm gonna tell Fritz."

"About the kiss or the feelings you're having for this woman? Or both?"

"I'm not havin' feelings for anyone," Brenda said immediately. "It's just this physical attraction, that's all."

"Alright." Leonard scribbled something again. "What are you planning on telling your husband?"

Brenda sucked her lower lip between her teeth and actually contemplated the question, something she had not allowed herself to do prior to that very moment. "I have to tell him about the kiss…"

"Why? You said that you told the woman that you couldn't do it, that you wouldn't be unfaithful."

The blonde lowered her head and fiddled with her wedding ring. She had avoided thinking about this, had avoided it for days and every hour of doing so had felt excruciating because it was the one thing her mind kept going back to over and over.

"Because you have a guilty conscience?" Leonard prodded. "Because you can't be untruthful with Fritz?"

"Both," Brenda responded after a moment, head still lowered. "I'd always know what I did…"

"And?"

Sighing, the blonde glanced up at Leonard from beneath her eyelashes, the fear of admitting it aloud letting her break out into a cold sweat. "If I don't tell him I'll always feel like I got away with it…and then I might…"

"Yes?"

"I might feel tempted to do it again."

"Hmm."

Brenda looked up, scowling at the doctor. "What's that s'posed to mean?"

"I was just wondering…because you said the woman kissed _you_…"

The blonde swallowed and licked her lips. "I may not have resisted very much…and I do feel bad about that but I just-" Brenda drew in a shaky breath. "I just couldn't help it." A humorless laugh escaped her lips. "That's a pathetic excuse."

"Well," Leonard said, "to me it sounded like the truth and not an excuse at all."

"Yes, well, I'm a grown woman and grown women don't go around kissin' people because they couldn't help themselves." Brenda fiddled with her ring again. "I don't cheat…and I love Fritz. And I have to tell him about what happened."

"Alright." Leonard leaned back in her chair and nodded contemplatively. "Have you ever asked yourself why you might be attracted to that woman?"

"Well, as I said," Brenda's expression went very hard and serious, "it's just a physical thing, that's all…"

Leonard blinked a couple times and nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Okay. Well. I think I'm gonna get goin' now."

"Um…"

Brenda was already on her feet. "Well, thank you, doctor. This has been very, um, liberatin' but as much as I enjoyed unloadin' my baggage, I would very much like to go back to work now, if you don't mind?" The blonde cleared her throat, the smile not reaching her eyes. "And I do hope that this time around you'll tell Chief Pope that I'm in…excellent condition and ready to tackle all my duties head on."

Brenda smiled again and almost curtsied when she hauled her purse off the floor. "Bye now…"

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Spoilers: Very mild for episode 610 "Executive Order".  
**

**Author's Note: **Again, thank you all for the reviews - I'm always amazed by the response I'm getting, so positive and kind. Thank you! :)

**_Chapter Eight:_**

**Partly Cloudy, Chance of Rain**

Brenda nibbled on her lower lip, the wine glass containing Merlot in one hand while she was picking on a loose thread of her pajama pants with the other. The house was mostly cast in shadows, the TV was on, the volume turned down to a mere whisper.

If she told him, she could never take it back.

That thought kept going around and around in Brenda's head, over and over. What would he say? What would his reaction be? Would he be mad? Sad? Would he hold her accountable as well?

She hadn't really done anything.

She hadn't initiated the whole thing, and no matter what Raydor said, Brenda was not sending any kinds of signals at all. She may have kissed back a little, so technically she hadn't really done much.

Fritz would understand, wouldn't he?

It all brought her right back to the question that had been on her mind all night; was telling him the right thing to do? Did Brenda merely want to relieve herself of the guilt? It would be unfair to only tell him because Brenda desperately needed to feel better about what she had done.

Emptying the glass and swallowing the Merlot but not really tasting it, Brenda put the glass on the table. She closed her eyes for a moment and buried her face in her hands.

"Brenda?"

Her eyes snapped open and she turned her head in the direction the voice had come from.

"You comin' to bed?"

Brenda avoided Fritz's gaze as he came closer.

"Something wrong?"

Yes, something was wrong. Brenda took a shaky breath, bit her lip in a last attempt to keep the words from spilling out and then she faced him. "Can you come here for a second? I need to talk to you about somethin'."

Fritz looked at her for a moment, trying to assess her expression, trying to hear something in her voice then he walked over the rest of the way in his grey shirt and pajama pants. "Is it about whatever's been going on with you the past couple days?"

"Somethin' like that."

Seconds ticked by in silence.

"So?"

Brenda's hands trembled, her lips quivered, her heart was pounding. "The other day when Captain Raydor…came by…" Her gaze faded into the distance as she remembered vividly what had transpired between them. "She just…sorta…"

"She what?"

"She kissed me," Brenda said quickly. "And she's been makin' advances but I didn't think she'd just kiss me like that."

Fritz blinked at her for a few moment, trying to comprehend what was going on here yet unable to grasp it. "She kissed you and she has been making advances?"

"Yes…" The blonde swallowed as Fritz left the couch and paced the length of the living room. "It didn't mean anything," she added, worried he might not actually believe it.

"And that's it?"

That's it? Brenda's eyes darted about the room as she was making sense of the question. "Of course! I told her to leave and that was it." Her lower lip quivered as she watched him pace up and down once more. "I wouldn't do that to you…"

He just stood there in the middle of the room.

"You know that, Fritzie…"

His eyes, when they reconnected with hers were sad and angry at once. His gaze felt hot, burning into Brenda until she had the distinct feeling that she should be aware of something but didn't get it. She didn't know what to say, she actually wished she could take it all back but there stood her Fritz, looking at her like that.

"You already did," he said finally, rubbing his forehead.

"What do you mean? I didn't do anything!"

Shaking his head, Fritz turned away from her. "No one can just walk up to you and kiss you, Brenda. They can try but they can't just kiss you unless you let them." He turned back around and fixed her with a glare. "Or did Raydor force herself on you, 'cause if she did, I expect you to file criminal charges…"

He didn't really mean it, Brenda knew that but answered anyway because somehow she felt she deserved everything. "She didn't. I just…it just…"

"What? It just happened?"

A tear slipped down Brenda's cheek. "…yes!"

"Oh, come on!" Fritz threw his hands in the air. "Maybe you should stop lying to yourself, Brenda."

"…Brenda?"

The blonde's eyes opened slowly.

"Brenda?"

She sat up, her gaze unfocused as it swept about the room. The TV was on, she was on the couch and she had quite obviously fallen asleep. Fritz hovered at her side, looking down at her with a worried gaze. "You alright? Did you have a nightmare…" He kneeled down beside her and brushed the hair out of her face.

Brenda blinked in confusion, her shirt slightly damp from sweating then she nodded slowly. "I think so…"

"If you hurry up you might even catch a little bit more sleep." The blonde frowned at him. "It's almost 5 A.M." He yawned at that and rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't wake you, I fell asleep myself."

"It's alright," Brenda murmured, her voice faint, reflecting her mood. She stared at him, at the man she married and felt the dread wash over her all over again. Maybe she shouldn't ever tell him, maybe that was the right thing to do?

"Fritz?" He lifted his eyebrows at her. "I need to tell you somethin'."

"…now?"

Brenda nodded and sat up on the couch while Fritz slumped down on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table. On the inside Brenda felt as if she was about to die, as if somebody was squeezing her heart with both hands. It was almost as bad as when she had had to tell her Daddy that she was getting a divorce. "It's about Captain Raydor."

Fritz frowned. "Raydor? Did she find something wrong with your shooting?"

"No, no, it's not that…"

"Did she say anything?"

"No, it's…no." Brenda averted her gaze and pulled on the loose thread on her pajama pants. She had to say it now; the realization made her lips quiver and tingle. "Um…" Her eyes watered and all she could think was that it wasn't even her place to cry, she didn't have the right. "It's…it's more about Captain Raydor specifically."

"Okay," Fritz said slowly. "What did she do?"

"Nothin', I mean…could you just listen to me, please? I just need you to listen to me."

"Hey," he reached out and wiped away a tear. "Hey, whatever she did, it's gonna be fine…you outrank her, remember?"

Brenda tried to smile at the joke and for a moment she really meant it but then she felt the guilt again, the awful, heart-squeezing feeling and turned a little, away from Fritz's comforting gesture. She took his hand though and clutched it between her own; perhaps that wasn't the best thing to do but Brenda couldn't help it, she needed the comfort.

Her lips parted but nothing would come out, her mouth worked around a word but her voice was gone. Brenda closed her eyes for a moment. "We…we're attracted to each other." She immediately looked at Fritz who merely squinted at her somewhat bemused but mostly skeptical.

"You're talking about the woman you can't stand and who hates your guts in return. That Raydor?"

"Oh, we do despise each other but…" This wasn't going well, Brenda realized, and if she didn't cut to the chase soon and told Fritz the truth, she would unnecessarily prolong it. "We kissed the other day…when she was here." She swallowed heavily even though her mouth felt like sandpaper. This time she didn't look at Fritz, Brenda merely glanced shamefully at their joined hands. "We kissed, I told her off and she left."

There was silence for at least five seconds then Fritz's hand slipped out from between hers. "Let me get this straight…you and Raydor have some sort of thing going on the side?"

Brenda swallowed her initial reaction to Fritz's sarcastic tone. "This was the first time anything ever happened and I promise you it was also the last."

"When did this happen?" Fritz scrambled off the floor and stared down at her from his elevated position.

"When she was here to tell me about the-"

"I meant, when did this, all of it, happen, Brenda?"

The blonde averted her eyes. "The…first time we met…"

Fritz's jaw dropped. "That was over a year ago!"

"Oh, I bet there are a bunch of women that you found attractive and haven't told me about."

"The difference is that I never kissed any of them!"

Brenda went silent for a moment and drew her knees up to her chest. "I know," she said feebly. "I'm a horrible person…" Her eyes had turned moist as soon as she spoke the words out loud; it was what her conscience had tried to tell her all along yet Brenda had been too afraid to listen.

"Oh, great…" Fritz sighed, resigned, and sat back down on the floor a little further away. "You don't get to be the victim here, Brenda."

The blonde nodded and wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry, Fritzie, I really am."

Fritz put his hands over his face, tried to rid himself of the last bits of sleep as he slowly wrapped his head around what had just transpired.

The blonde watched him from her spot on the couch, her whole body shaking from the adrenalin that had flooded her system and was now wearing off. Fritz looked so defeated, sitting there like that, it broke Brenda's heart and she wished she had never said anything.

She wanted to take it back, turn back the clock and undo it.

And that look he gave her, Brenda had never seen it before and she was intent on never making him look at her like that again. "Say somethin'." Brenda couldn't take the silence anymore and actually hoped that he would yell at her instead; she certainly deserved it.

"To be honest, I don't know what to say." His eyebrows drawn together into a frown, Fritz stared out the window as the sun was slowly rising. "Why her?"

Brenda had wondered the very same thing countless times before but she had no answers that could explain the whys satisfactorily to him. "I don't know…"

"Why a woman, Brenda?"

The blonde sucked her lower lip in as she laid her head gently onto her knees to glance at the window herself. "I don't know…" She felt Fritz's stare on her, judging, questioning, pleading but feeding him some flimsy excuse, some half-truth, seemed wrong to her. She had lied enough as it was.

"…is this something you've thought about before?"

"No!" She said immediately.

"Is it something you need?"

"No! Of course not…you're all I need."

"Well," he shook his head angrily, "apparently I'm not."

"That's not true," Brenda said immediately, her mind racing through all the things she could tell him, all the things that could make this better but everything seemed insufficient somehow. "It's…it's confusin' me too. I don't know why I have all these feelings…I've been under a lot of pressure lately with the whole Chief thing and that woman, she kept pushing me!"

Fritz scoffed at that. "I doubt anyone can ever make you do things you don't wanna do, Brenda."

"I'm not sayin' that!" The blonde paused for a moment, aware of the fact that if she wanted to make this better somehow she shouldn't try to shift the blame around. "I know what I did was terrible and I'm sorry for that…"

He sighed at that and rubbed his forehead, thinking. "You know, I learned a couple things during my drinking days…that it was a symptom of a much bigger problem for example. I was stuck in an unhappy marriage, dissatisfied with my job, with my life and I _chose_ drinking over dealing with my problems. So…I'm wondering what could possibly be wrong, aside from the pressure you're describing, that wasn't even an issue a year ago when you first met the woman, that 'made' you kiss her."

Fritz crossed his arms over his chest and directed a hard, angry look at her. "Maybe you should think about that, Brenda because if you don't deal with things they tend to catch up with you…"

The blonde was stunned at his words, she felt ashamed suddenly but wasn't sure why. The protests that had been sitting on the very tip of her tongue evaporated as her mind turned blank. Brenda had known that this could happen, she had seen it often enough in the interview room but she had been unprepared for the impact.

Sometimes, when laid out like this, the truth hurt.

"Maybe you should just…stay on the couch," Fritz said and made to leave. "And the next time you and Raydor feel attracted to each other, I wanna know about it."

He turned one last time before he left once and for all. "Actually, maybe I don't wanna know about it…"

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note:** First of all, helping people move their stuff from one location to another, sucks. Stuff sucks. Moving sucks. People with lots of stuff suck. Right? :P So, here we go again - this chapter hasn't much Raydor in it but the next chapter will deal with her side of the story and, of course, with the next lust-induced Brenda/Sharon crisis. Until then, I hope you will bear with me...

**Chapter Nine:**

Suspicions & Certainties

_Beep beep beep._

_Beep beep beep._

_Beep beep beep._

"Oh no! Oh, for heaven's-"

_Beep beep beep._

"Oh, no, no, no!"

_Beep beep beep._

"Here's your phone…"

Brenda bit her lip guiltily as she took the device from Fritz who was looking at her with small, sleepy eyes while she stood there wrapped in a towel and water dripping from her hair right onto the floor.

"Thanks…I just, that ringer, I've tried to change it for days but-"

"Could you just answer it…please?" He turned and trudged back into the bedroom.

Brenda sighed and answered her phone. "Hello? No, Detective, it's alright. No, no, no, I just got out of the-I think I'm just gonna get there myself. Yes, Detective. Yes. And where's that?"

Fritz rolled over in bed and sighed into a pillow.

"Uh huh. Alright then, I'll see ya in a bit. Bye now." Brenda stared at her new phone for a moment then wiped the bit of water she had gotten on it away with her towel. She had barely finished her shower when her phone had started ringing incessantly. On top of that the new ringtone she had was awful and she hadn't yet gotten around to changing it, in part because she didn't know how to and hadn't been patient enough to figure it out.

She hated the new phone.

Brenda was about to hurry back into the bathroom when she noticed the puddle she had left behind on the floor. "Oooh," she whined and dashed into the bathroom. She dried herself a bit and wrapped her hair in a towel which was when she noticed Fritz dabbing at the water stains on the floor. "No, no, no! I was gonna clean that up! You go on back to bed."

"It's okay, I got it," he said from his position on the floor.

"No, it's not. Just go back to bed, Fritzie, alright? I'll be extra quiet, I promise."

"I'm awake now anyway, Brenda…"

The blonde bit her lip and came closer. "I'm sorry."

"Next time just don't leave the cell phone with the annoying ringtone in the bedroom…where I am sleeping." He stood and looked her over. "By the way, I could change it for you, if you want?"

"Nooo," Brenda sighed. "I'll get Lieutenant Tao to do it. Now, you go on back to bed, okay?" She smiled at him for not being mad at her and kissed him quickly, patting his chest.

Fritz grinned at her for a few moments, just long enough to get her to wonder what it was about. "You're still dripping."

Brenda glanced down and indeed, she was still getting water all over the floor. "Sorry."

"I'll get it and you go get ready."

The blonde looked at him, trying to find even a trace of anger but there was none. "Thank you." Smiling, Brenda hurried back into the bathroom. "That was Detective Gabriel on the phone…"

"Yeah," Fritz said slowly from the other room. "I figured."

"There was some sort of shootin'." Brenda rummaged around for her blow-dryer. "We've got an officer in the hospital."

"Is he gonna make it?"

Brenda looked up and found Fritz standing in the doorway to the bathroom. "I dunno. It just happened and Detective Gabriel's not even there yet himself."

"Listen," Fritz said before Brenda could plug in the blow-dryer. "I have to be at the office at five tomorrow morning, so we may not see each other until late at night…"

"Oh, right, the new task force thingy. How's that goin'?"

"Well. The thingy is going great," Fritz mocked, "We're about to make a couple high profile arrests."

Brenda unwrapped the towel from her head. "The FBI and the LAPD working together perfectly for a change – ain't that nice?"

"I'm just very good at the whole liaising part, y'know?"

"Hmm, yes, very good…" The blonde grinned.

"Uh huh. Now. This liaison has an early start tomorrow and is going to bed." He gave her another short but loving kiss and watched as Brenda turned on the blow-dryer before he slumped back into bed.

* * *

Her hair in a messy pony tail, a coat tightly wrapped around her and wearing two inch heels, Brenda stepped out of her car. She hauled her purse out and advanced on the crime scene. There was no red tape yet, she noted with satisfaction.

The crime scene entailed the bigger part of a block. The first thing that immediately got Brenda's attention were the tire marks on one side of the street.

"Chief…" An officer nodded at her and lifted the tape for her.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her brain already on the matters at hand. A helicopter flew over the area, highlighting everything for a short moment. It was then that Brenda noticed all the shell casings on the ground spread out over almost the whole crime scene. The more gruesome discovery was the white sheet undoubtedly draped over a body on the pavement partially hidden in a narrow alley.

Brenda made her way there and kneeled gingerly in the dark. She lifted the sheet slowly and peeked underneath. A boy, maybe 16, maybe younger. She couldn't immediately see the wound that had subsequently led to the blood pool right under him but noticed that he must have been shot, judging from the blood-soaked shirt he was wearing. There was blood around his mouth and his eyes were still open.

Brenda sighed heavily and covered him with the sheet again.

A line of casings led directly from the tire marks diagonally across the street to what looked like a neighborhood drug store. The window was shot into tiny little pieces.

There were two cars parked on that side of the road. One had the driver's side door open, bullet holes were in it as well as in the hood of the car and the windshield. Behind that car parked another one, not parallel to the sidewalk.

"Chief!" It was Detective Gabriel, he flew past the cars which was when Brenda noticed most of the squad going about their business.

"Detective, what happened here?"

He sighed and shook his head. "We're not sure yet but we know that one of the officers involved was Detective Mendoza…"

Brenda blinked. "Mikki Mendoza?"

"Yeah," Gabriel nodded at the first car. "She was off-duty and responded to a shots fired."

The blonde noticed the blood coloring the pavement brown by the opened driver's side door. "She was shot?"

"Yes, Chief, it appears so. She's at the hospital…along with, uh, with a guy that was shot, probably one of the suspects but it looks like he's gonna make it."

"Probably?" Brenda pursed her lips. "Why is it that nobody knows what's actually goin' on?" She looked around, "you said Detective Mendoza was one of the officers involved? Where are the other ones? Or the one that car belongs to for starters."

Another sigh escaped Gabriel's lips as he nodded towards an ambulance.

Brenda's eyes took in the scene – three men and one woman huddled around the back of the ambulance, all with their backs to her but that didn't keep her from positively identifying the woman.

She was wearing her pin-stripe combo today.

"What's she doin' here? Who called her?" Brenda straightened involuntarily as she made to cross the street.

"Uh, Chief-"

"How can she be here before me?"

"Chief!"

"What is it, Detective?"

"Uh…" Gabriel halted and so did Brenda.

She lifted her eyebrows at him and at not receiving an answer, she turned her eyes back onto the ambulance and at Raydor. Brenda went still as she watched the Captain bend over and blow into a breathalyzer that one of the men had set up in the back of the ambulance.

"W-w-what happened?"

Detective Gabriel put his hands on his hips as he observed the goings-on as well. "It appears that Captain Raydor was the second officer to respond to the call but we did not get a statement from her yet, she insisted that-"

"She must go first?" Brenda finished with an edge in her voice.

"Well, that…FID must go first."

"Oh, that woman!" Brenda hoisted her purse further up her shoulder and was about to storm over there and rip the woman a new one when, out of nowhere, the kiss flashed before her eyes. Raydor pressed up against her, their lips molded together.

Brenda cleared her throat and blinked the memories away then she marched straight ahead, determined. "S'cuse me? S'cuse me, gentlemen." She swept past two of the guys and halted right next to Raydor. "S'cuse me, Captain."

Raydor turned and looked straight at her, her features went slack for a moment while Brenda just tried to control her breathing. "Chief…"

"We need your statement, Captain and we need it now."

"And as I told Detective Gabriel over there and Lieutenant Provenza as well, I will be available to you by tomorrow morning."

The blonde noticed that the front of Raydor's pant suit only had very few pin-stripes on it…and the sleeves of her white blouse were reddish brown. She was covered in a whole lot of blood.

"Look, Chief, with all due respect," one of the men said, "Captain Raydor is coming with us. As you can see, this is an OIS which means that we go first."

Brenda put on her sugary sweet smile. "And I have a wounded police officer in the hospital, so, why don't y'all step aside and let me have a word with Captain Raydor here who, I presume, isn't very fond of getting shot at and should be just thrilled to help us find whoever did this. Or better yet, why don't y'all go to the hospital and have a little chat with the suspect-oh, pardon me, the _victim_ of this shootin'? I heard he's doin' fine…"

Raydor cleared her throat and licked her upper lip. "I'm going with them," she said slowly, avoiding Brenda's eyes.

She was far from alright.

"No, you're not. Gentlemen, step aside, please." They were protecting her, the blonde realized. It was unexpected; everybody called Raydor a bitch behind her back and sometimes even to her face yet there were her colleagues, her subordinates, immediately taking her side. "Oh, I didn't realize FID had gained autonomy over its own affairs," Brenda threw the phrase back at her. "A.I. investigatin' itself, well, I can't say I'm surprised."

"You may not be, but I am."

Brenda turned around at the voice of Will Pope advancing on them.

"Chief Pope," the blonde said, smile firmly in place.

Will nodded at her. "How's Mendoza?"

"Um…I don't know yet, I just got here myself." Brenda looked around. "Where's Commander Taylor?" Her voice took on that irritated tone. "I need him to set up a command post."

"He's not coming," Will replied shortly.

Brenda shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Of course he's comin'. Commander Taylor is always comin'."

"He's sick with the flu, Chief Johnson, now can we just-"

"Oh, look, there he is!" Brenda waved at the man over Will's shoulder. Taylor, blowing his nose, was delegating the people with the tent and gestured tiredly at some technicians.

"Now." Will said suddenly. "What's all this I hear about FID wanting to investigate itself?"

Sergeant Elliott crossed his arms, looking less than pleased with the whole situation yet Raydor said nothing even though Brenda was pretty sure that she didn't condone his behavior. "With all due respect, Chief but Captain Raydor discharged her firearm and wounded a civilian which triggers-"

"So, the blood pool over there is from the…suspect currently being treated at the hospital?" Brenda interrupted, her eyes boring into Elliott's. Apparently he was intent on keeping his mouth shut.

"Here's what's gonna happen," Pope intervened. "Chief Johnson will lead this investigation and you will assist her in any way you can. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," he answered begrudgingly.

"Good. Now excuse me…looks like the press has already gotten wind of this."

Releasing a breath, Brenda turned back to the small crowd that had already gathered around her. "Now," she said sharply. "Let's get to it. Captain Raydor…" The blonde blinked slowly while she assessed the woman's state of mind. "I want you to head back Downtown, I'm sure Lieutenant Provenza will get you there safely."

Raydor put her hands on her hips and pressed her lips together. She nodded eventually, clearly unhappy with something or other.

"Uh, Chief," Provenza interrupted with a raised finger. "I sent Flynn and Sanchez after one of the FID guys to canvas the neighborhood…"

Brenda glared at Elliott who shrugged nonchalantly. "Alright then. Captain Raydor…" The blonde stopped mid-sentence at the scathing look the Captain was giving her. "Yes? What is it?"

Raydor narrowed her eyes at Brenda. "I'm covered…in the blood of a fellow officer and I would very much like to change out of these clothes, so, if you don't mind opening the trunk of my car and getting me my spare-"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," Brenda averted her eyes, aware of the delicacy of the situation. "You car is part of the crime scene, it's evidence…"

Raydor's eyes turned heavenwards for a moment. "Then can somebody drive me home?"

Brenda crossed her arms and lowered her voice. "You know the drill, Captain, your clothes are evidence too." The blonde released a breath and glanced at the faces around her. "Lieutenant Provenza, please escort Captain Raydor back to HQ…" Provenza groaned and Brenda bit her lip, lowering her voice again. "I've got a shirt in my drawer, at the office, if you could get that for her please…and my…my cashmere thingy, the cream-colored one with the-"

"Trust me, Chief," Provenza said, "we all know which one."

Scratching the side of her neck and avoiding Raydor's stare, Brenda inched closer to Provenza. "Well then you will also know where to find it, won't you, Lieutenant?"

"Of course, Chief."

"Good. Now," Brenda turned. "Sergeant Elliott, I believe it is? Please get us up to speed."

Elliott opened his notepad and glanced at Raydor who, after a moment of hesitation, gave him a subtle nod before Provenza dared putting his hand on her to guide her away from the crime scene. Begrudgingly, Elliott began to read his notes. "Captain Raydor reported four assailants, all males, one white, three black."

_Odd._

"They fled in a dark SUV, Captain Raydor managed to get the plates and we have an APB out, but the vehicle came back stolen, so…"

"Detective Gabriel, if you could contact the owner and-" Noticing the slightly guilty look on Elliott's face, Brenda cut herself off and plastered a smile onto her face before she continued. "Sergeant, why don't you call whoever you sent to the owner's residence and tell them to wait until Detective Gabriel gets there?"

"…sure." Elliott pulled out his cell.

"Thank you…" Everything was going way too slow; it was the one thing that unnerved Brenda the most whenever she worked with FID. Arguments, territorial fights, it all slowed the process down to a snail's pace. "Lieutenant Tao? What can you tell me about the crime scene?" She looked around for a moment. "And where's Buzz?"

"He should be here any minute, Chief," Tao said, "traffic jam." The Lieutenant gestured at the broken window. "We should start in there. Careful, Chief, we have glass shards all over the sidewalk."

Brenda followed Tao, gingerly stepping around the glass, while Elliott hung up the phone and followed them to the door of the store. "Detective Gabriel is on the way to the owner's house now."

The blonde gave him one of her fakest smiles as she entered what was indeed a small convenience store. Brenda's eyes swept over the scene slowly; there was the counter to the right, a couple chocolate bars had been knocked down, a stand with potato chips thrown over, probably dragged down by the victim that was lying face down a couple feet from the counter.

The Coroner's Investigator was kneeling beside the body, obscuring Brenda's view but she guessed the victim was male.

"It appears that the assailants entered and exited through the front door, there is one in the back but it's locked from the inside," Tao said. "We have four .38 caliber shell casings here…the gunman probably moved with his target while firing, and 9mm casings behind the counter."

Her eyes catalogued the store again. "Do we have video?" She pointed at the camera in the corner over the register.

"I'm afraid not," Tao said, "it's fake. Attached to two AA batteries, can be ordered off the internet for 25 bucks. It's actually an exact replica-"

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Brenda interrupted quickly and turned her attention to the body. "Kendall, what can you tell us about the body so far?"

"Body temperature is consistent with the reported shooting – he died about an hour ago." The young man looked the kid over. "Two what appear to be entry wounds, one here in the side and the other in the back."

"So he was probably runnin' away from the killer…" Brenda mused quietly.

Kendall was about to continue when the door to the store opened once again. Flynn and Sanchez entered, both looking less than pleased. "Chief," Flynn said, "we just interviewed the woman who called this in, a Yolanda Muñoz, she's a real piece of work. Now get this: She saw three armed men, boys, whatever, enter the store and called 911, there hadn't even been a shot yet but she thought she should add that little detail because, and I quote, what else were those boys gonna do with those guns."

Brenda processed the information, a small smile almost threatening to break out. "Any other witnesses?"

"Other than the guy cowering in the back by the soda fridge, none."

"What guy?" Brenda turned and nailed Elliott with a piercing glare.

The Sergeant sighed. "I'll see to it that he's brought up to Major Crimes…"

"Thank you so much," the blonde drawled. "Now, Kendall, does he have any I.D. on him?"

The Coroner's Assistant nodded and gently pulled a wallet from the young man's back pocket. He gave it to Brenda who immediately opened it. "Cash is still in there…twenty something. Did they empty the register?"

"Actually, yes, they did," Tao said.

"Hmm." Brenda blinked down at the driver's license. "Says a…Victor Johnston. Lieutenant Flynn, if you could run that name, please?"

"Sure, Chief." He wrote the name down and excused himself leaving Sanchez looking grimly at the scene.

"What can you tell me about this neighborhood, Detective?" Brenda stepped over the body and moved to the back of the store to the fridge and hunched down, trying to assess what the witness could have actually seen. "Detective?" She stood again and saw Sanchez still staring down at the body.

"Uh…this is a mostly Latino neighborhood. Many Colombians, tight knit community but no gang territory, Chief…and, Mendoza's apartment is just four blocks down."

The blonde's interest was suddenly piqued. She had gathered along the way that Mikki Mendoza was a lesbian, she had even been on the receiving end of one of Mendoza's compliments, so it came as a surprise that Detective Sanchez, who had had an eye on Mendoza, knew where she lived.

"Um, Detective, why don't you go on down to the hospital and find out how Detective Mendoza is doin'?"

"Chief, I'd really like to help-"

"I know," Brenda interrupted, "but when Mikki wakes up from her surgery, it'll be good for her to see a familiar face. I also need you to call as soon as the suspect Captain Raydor shot is ready to have visitors."

Sanchez sighed then nodded. "You got it, Chief."

When the door closed behind him, Brenda immediately turned to Tao, eyebrows raised.

"They ride their motorcycles together."

"Ah." Brenda was just examining a heap of glass shards that were the result of a bullet hitting a bottle of ketchup which left blood-red stains all over the wall and shelves when the door opened yet again. "Buzz! It's about time."

"I'm sorry, Chief."

"Why don't you start with the body over there, please? Make sure you get the shell casings here behind the counter…"

Buzz went to work and Tao led the Chief and Sergeant Elliot back out to the broken window. "One of the assailants shot the window from the inside, he may have been shooting at Detective Mendoza and Captain Raydor's cars as they approached…"

"We don't know that yet," Elliott interrupted in true FID fashion.

"That's why he used the word 'may', Sergeant."

Elliott turned away a little and rolled his eyes. "Captain Raydor stated that the shots fired through the window sounded like submachine gun fire, which was later confirmed when the guy pointed one right at her…just so the Pope can't accuse me of withholding vital information…"

"Why, thank you, Sergeant." Brenda smiled and walked away, letting him stand there. Tao cast a disapproving glance at Elliott and then followed suit.

"This is Detective Mendoza's car," he not only pointed at it but practically presented the car to Brenda. "She took up position behind the driver's side door – see the concentration of bullet holes in the area." Tao looked at Elliott as he spoke and pointed the bullet holes in the door and the hood out to him as if he had never been at the scene of a shooting. "Two bullets penetrated the windshield. We have a considerable amount of blood here and in the car."

Brenda looked inside, mindful of the blood on the ground – Detective Mikki Mendoza's blood. The interior of the dark Crown Vic looked impeccable if it weren't for the bloody handprints and smears.

"Those are Captain Raydor's," Sergeant Elliott leaned over her shoulder. "She radioed in while she tried to help Mendoza." He pointed at what looked to be a coat lying balled up on the ground, almost under the car. "This is hers too. She tried to stop the bleeding."

Brenda nodded slowly, her gaze sweeping over the seemingly contained chaos laid out before her. Her heart clenched at the sight and she found it difficult to swallow; it was always terrible when officers were shot but when you knew them, it seemed ten-times worse. It could've been anyone, that's what they were all thinking, it could've been the partner you've been riding with for years, it could've been your friend, it could've been you.

"She only got five rounds off," Sergeant Elliott commented quietly.

"Now, Captain Raydor exited her vehicle on the passenger's side," Tao pulled her out of her musings, thankfully, and led them all to the silver Crown Vic. "Bullet holes in the rear. And we have concentrations of casings here and here." Five of them were lying on the ground, near the rear-tire while three were positioned in the other direction, away from the car.

Brenda contemplated the physical evidence laid out before her, unconsciously mimicking the Captain's position behind the rear of the car, imaginary weapon drawn and aimed at the evidence markers in the middle of the street where she had presumably shot one of the assailants. Five shots, the car drove off, Brenda turned and fired another three after it.

"She shot the left tail light out, we put that in our APB," Sergeant Elliott supplied, one hand smoothing back his jet-black hair. "Now, the guy Captain Raydor shot went down right there." He had taken out his notepad and seemed as if he was finally starting to actually work with them instead of against them.

"Do we have a name?"

"Nah, no identification on him, he also refused to give the paramedics his name. Uh, what else? Uh, Captain Raydor secured his weapon, a Colt Anaconda revolver-"

"And where is the weapon right now?"

"It's in our lab…I'll…I'll get the ballistics' report to you as soon as it's finished."

Brenda tilted her head and smiled. "How 'bout you get the gun to us?"

"…fine."

"Thank you, Sergeant." Her smile broadened then vanished as she glanced down at the blood stain discoloring the middle of the street.

"Chief?" Lieutenant Tao walked along a path of yellow markers. "We have 9mm casings and .38s leading, and this is interesting, Chief, from here," he stood about two feet off the sidewalk, near Mendoza's car. "To, here!" He stopped near the skid marks on the other side of the street.

"So…the shooters didn't immediately open fire on Detective Mendoza and Captain Raydor," Sergeant Elliott concluded.

"That's correct," Tao said a tad too cheerily considering that they were currently standing in the middle of a crime scene.

"Chief Johnson?"

They all turned in the direction of the voice. It was Kendall, the Coroner's Assistant who had just loaded Victor Johnston into his van.

"There's supposed to be another body?"

"What?" Elliott turned to Brenda who ignored him with practiced nonchalance.

"Yes, over there." They all meandered past the skid marks, to the sidewalk and stopped at the small alley and the body almost completely obscured by it.

Elliott stared down at the white sheet in disbelieve then his eyes darted to Brenda who tried to be calm about it, hoping Elliott wouldn't overreact to the news after he had thought to be ahead of everyone else at the crime scene just because he had spoken to Captain Raydor.

"Please, Kendall, if you could check for identification." Clearing her throat, Brenda glanced at Sergeant Elliott then at Tao who raised his eyebrows at her and nodded towards the Sergeant, aware of his worsening composure.

"We have a wallet with chain here, Chief…let me get it off for you…" Kendall turned the boy over a bit and opened the fastening of the chain on one of his belt loops.

Brenda opened the wallet and found very little in it; a picture of a girl, about ten dollars in cash and a library pass. "James Marino…"

"Well," Kendall interrupted, "looks like James here was shot in the back, a through and through…careful, there are blood drops."

The blonde stepped aside, off the sidewalk as did everyone else, eyes trained on the ground and the little blood stains and smears.

"He was probably shot here and tried to crawl into the alley afterwards," Kendall said, trailing the blood drops with his eyes.

Brenda though glanced at the skid marks and then at Sergeant Elliott who still seemed upset about a body just showing up unannounced. At last, she glanced over his shoulder and what she saw made her breath hitch. "Sergeant," she said, her voice urgent. "We'll be another while but we really need that revolver in the worst way…could you just go on back Downtown and make sure it gets to Major Crimes as soon as possible, please?"

Scoffing at the woman and rolling his eyes, Elliott turned on his heel and walked away, shaking his head.

After he was well out of earshot, Brenda glanced at Lieutenant Tao, who, she knew, was thinking the same thing. "If you could coordinate things with SID…be on the lookout for the projectile that hurt Detective Mendoza."

"Of course, Chief."

"And then," she said slowly, her gaze darting to the Crown Vics that were directly in her line of sight from where she was standing, the exact spot where James Marino had presumably been shot. "Find the bullet that killed this boy…turn this place upside down if you have to."

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note:** Why is it that shopping for things that you need is a whole lot less fun than just buying things that you want? Why can't both be awesome? Also, I want to live near the equator, where there's only one season all year because then I won't ever have to buy coats again. Oh, wait, it's awfully hot there, isn't it? Bummer. Now. I once again want to thank everyone who commented on the story, I really appreciate it and it really helps my muse along a little :P Thank you guys, I really, truly appreciate it!

**Chapter Ten:**

Where there's Smoke…

After rummaging through her purse in search of the ever illusive key card, Brenda entered Major Crimes. Pulling on her coat, trying to get it off, she walked right into the murder room. Tao was still at the scene but Provenza was there and Flynn, the latter was just rolling his eyes when she breezed in while Provenza's head had taken on a decidedly unnatural color.

Probably Raydor's fault.

"Gentlemen, what do we have so far?"

Flynn, who seemed as calm and laid-back as ever, picked up a DMV photo and put it on the big board. "Victor Johnston. 19. One prior for…joyriding. His mother, a Marianna Jimenez, died when he was 15, his father, Paul Johnston, is in prison for battery and assault with a deadly weapon – he almost killed a guy with a baseball bat. He also used to smack Marianna around, units were dispatched once a week to the Johnston residence."

"Charmin'."

"The store belongs to a Manuel Jimenez, Victor's uncle. Couple petty crimes but nothing since 2001."

"We've met him at the crime scene," Brenda said quietly, "seemed genuinely upset by his nephew's death." She studied the board and the information already available to them. It wasn't much yet and this time around Flynn and Provenza had used an actual photograph of Captain Raydor and not a drawing of the Wicked Witch.

Next to Raydor was a picture of Mikki Mendoza, smiling into the camera; she always smiled, except when she wore her tough cop look.

"I talked to the witness when FID brought him up," Provenza said from behind her. "Didn't see much, didn't know anything, he was just there to get some soda. But," Provenza pulled out his notepad. "He heard one of the shooters yell at the victim and I quote 'you killed her, you pervert' and then there was crying, shouting and shooting. The end."

"Alright," Brenda said more to herself. "Where's Captain Raydor?"

Provenza pointed over his shoulder. "I put her in the break room. She's been writing for almost an hour now."

"Writin'?"

"I didn't dare ask after she almost bit my head off for offering to get something from the vending machine." He turned to Flynn. "It's impossible to do anything right these days! They get mad when you don't hold the door open for them and those feminist types get mad when you do!"

Brenda sighed and glared at Provenza for good measure. "Alright then…where's Detective Gabriel?"

"On his way back as we speak. By the way," Flynn said conversationally, "the owner of the stolen vehicle wasn't pleased to be woken up at this late hour and he said to expect a complaint. I was thinking, if anything, he should be pleased 'cause now every cop in the city is looking for his car."

Provenza chuckled to himself but immediately wiped the expression off his face when he found himself on the receiving end of the Chief's death glare.

"We have an I.D. on the second victim, James Marino. Lieutenant…" Brenda's gaze drifted from Provenza to Flynn and back again. "Lieutenant Provenza, if you could find a next of kin."

He lifted an eyebrow at the Chief's brief hesitation. "Oh, and, uh, Sergeant Elliott is on his way here with Captain Raydor's gun and the weapon used by our John Doe in the hospital…if you could…" She made a vague gesture.

"Get rid of him?"

"Nooo," Brenda said immediately. "Sergeant Elliott is supposed to help with this investigation so why don't you find something for him to help with?"

"Understood."

The blonde took another large breath after having delayed the inevitable for yet another couple minutes. "Has Buzz printed out the map from that Google-thingy yet?"

Flynn held up a rolled up piece of paper.

"Alright then…let's get Captain Raydor's statement. Lieutenant Flynn, Interview Room One, please."

"You got it, Chief."

Brenda nodded once then went in search for Raydor. Her feet carried her to the break room while her brain was still adverse to the idea of even going there.

However, needs must.

Looking in through the big glass walls, which seemed to be the theme of the new Headquarters downtown, still without a name, Brenda spotted Captain Raydor easily. The woman sat at a table for two against the wall on the far side of the room. Her legs were crossed and Brenda noticed that she was wearing a skirt now and not her pin-striped slacks from earlier.

The notepad sat on the table and Raydor was leaning over it, her arms hugging her stomach as she seemed to force her body into a composed position.

She was wearing the cashmere cardigan.

Brenda watched her for a moment, trying to assess her own feelings toward the woman and realizing that she wasn't feeling much of anything. A little compassion, an odd appreciation for the woman's silhouette, a sense of amusement at the prospect of being of the receiving end of one of Raydor's sharp jabs again.

Talk to the hand, Brenda thought, a small smile momentarily overtaking her features.

She opened the door slowly as to not startle the woman and leaned into the room "Cap'n Raydor…"

The brunette turned toward her, eyebrows raised as she immediately stood and smoothed down the cardigan. "I'm ready," she said.

Brenda blinked at the presumptuousness. "So are we." She tracked the woman's progress across the room, saw the notepad tucked under her arm securely and then, out of habit, held the door open for her. "After you, Captain."

"Thank you…Chief Johnson," Raydor's voice wavered as she took one big step through the doorway, right past Brenda, clearing her throat right thereafter.

The blonde licked her lower lip as she closed the door, just when Raydor couldn't see her doing it, somewhat put off by the woman's behavior. "This way, please."

Meanwhile, Provenza took a seat next to Buzz, taking a huge bite out of a sandwich he had brought to work yesterday but hadn't gotten around to eating yet. It tasted alright, the salad was a little limp and the tomato had soaked through the bread a bit but the sandwich was still within acceptable eating levels.

The screens flickered to life and they saw Flynn wave at one of cameras then he positioned himself in the corner, waiting, until the door opened again.

"After you…"

Raydor stepped into the picture. "Thank you."

Provenza scoffed. "So she only doesn't like it when men do it!"

"Sir?" Buzz frowned at him.

"…just watch the damn screen, Buzz."

Brenda offered Raydor a chair and took the one right opposite her, Flynn sat last, smoothing his tie down. "Alright, Captain, why don't we start with-"

"Where is Sergeant Elliott? An FID officer should be present."

Brenda smiled in order to keep herself from responding too tersely. "He's helpin' us with ballistics' but he should arrive shortly and is very welcome to observe from the media room. Now, Captain, I want to go over the details as quickly as possible, time is of the essence here, as you know, so why don't we-"

"If I may, Chief?" Raydor interrupted with a raised finger. "In order to conduct this interview as thoroughly as possible, I prepared a written statement earlier that I would like to read to you. Afterwards, if you have any questions, you may ask them…" The Captain blinked once then added, "If that's alright with you."

The blonde glanced at Flynn while Provenza glanced at Buzz.

"Sure…go ahead."

Raydor nodded once, picked up the notepad and cleared her throat. "At approximately 10.15 P.M., while driving west on Madison, myself and Detective Mendoza responded to a shots fired. We approached with our lights turned off, in order to not alert the possible shooter. When we arrived at the address, we were almost immediately fired upon-"

"Captain," Brenda interrupted. "Sorry for interruptin'." Sighing gently and avoiding Raydor's raised eyebrows for the moment, Brenda tried to figure out how to put what she was trying to convey. "I know how you usually conduct these kinds of investigations but I would very much like for you to tell me about what you saw and not so much about what you did."

Raydor blinked slowly, her eyes darting about the room. "I see…"

"This isn't about your conduct, Captain, it's about-"

"But it should be," Raydor interrupted. "I discharged my weapon and wounded a civilian; my conduct during this shooting should be questioned and examined…by the proper authorities."

"Yes, well, I'm tryin' to figure out who shot Victor Johnston."

"Who?"

"The boy, in the store," Brenda responded tersely and glanced at Flynn who was partly bemused, partly baffled by her lack of self-control.

"Captain Raydor," he intervened, "we really need your help here, so why don't we start at the beginning?"

The brunette pursed her lips, glanced at her notepad which she then placed on the table delicately and nodded. "But…I'd like to note that I was cooperative and following guidelines and procedure in regards to how this investigation has to be properly handled and I'd like to be clear that it is you who…refuse to follow protocol." She straightened a little. "I don't wanna be accused of double-standards."

Brenda bit her lip. "The beginnin', Captain."

"Detective Mendoza and I were headed home and we-"

"Home from where?" Brenda asked before she could stop herself because Mendoza was a lesbian and Raydor, she kissed girls, at least one that Brenda knew of and the thought that the woman might kiss others somehow didn't seem to sit right with the blonde.

"We," Raydor sighed annoyed. "We had a very long day in court and decided to get something to eat afterwards. We had dinner at the Caliente and left around 10. We were driving down Madison when the call came over the radio."

"Okay." Brenda nodded to herself. "And then what happened? Uh, Lieutenant Flynn, the map, please."

Flynn stood and rolled out the satellite image Buzz had enhanced and printed out on the table, making a show of it.

Raydor glanced the map over then pointed to the drug store. "Detective Mendoza and I parked our cars. She was just about to step out when somebody fired through the window of the store. She took cover behind the door."

"And what were you doing?"

The Captain smiled that ironic smile at her. "I ducked."

"Mmm."

"Yes," Raydor said slowly. "Mmm. Then the doors of the store opened and three males exited," Raydor explained. "I used the passenger side door because the other side would've left me exposed."

"Okay."

"Detective Mendoza identified us as LAPD upon which one of the shooters opened fire."

"Did you happen to see which one?"

"No." Raydor touched the collar of the cashmere cardigan that she was wearing, a fact Brenda had somehow managed to overlook for the most part but now seemed to consume her brain, especially when Raydor wrapped the cardigan that little fraction tighter around herself. "One of them had a submachine gun."

Flynn commented that with raised eyebrows.

"They were shooting at us then Detective Mendoza got hit upon which I fired back, hitting one of them. I remember that the one with the submachine gun wanting to go back…but he never did. They drove off, I fired three more rounds, hitting the tail light, you should be on the lookout for that-"

"We are."

Raydor glanced down at her notepad again. "I radioed in and tried to help Detective Mendoza. I also secured the weapon used by the assailant I incapacitated. I'm sure you will find his fingerprints on the gun. He didn't appear to be as seriously injured as Detective Mendoza which is why I cuffed him and left to help her."

Brenda nodded slowly, her eyes trailing over the cashmere cardigan, how it clung to Raydor's frame, how fragile she actually looked. "And you never entered the store, is that correct?"

"Yes. I would've but backup arrived, they secured the scene and then the ambulances came. I stayed with Detective Mendoza for that duration."

"Did the man you shot say anythin' at all?"

Raydor blinked and shook her head. "No. Well, he begged me to not let him die…"

"What about the others? Did they at any point say anythin'?"

The woman let her eyes roam about the room, the wheels in her head turning as she tried to remember. "Maybe…I'm not really sure." The frustration was written all over her face.

Brenda leaned across the table a bit, pointed at the map and fixed Raydor with an intense gaze. "You were behind your car, they were shooting at you, bullets flyin' everywhere-"

"When I shot him," Raydor said suddenly, "the guy who wanted to go back for him, I think he called out his name…um…Sean, no, maybe Gene…" Raydor sighed. "I can't remember."

"It's alright," the blonde responded soothingly.

"I should've paid more attention."

"The whole thing went down in a matter of seconds, Captain," Flynn chimed in, "you got the plates, so that's something."

"What good did that do? The car was stolen," she retorted and sighed. "I'm tired and I'd very much like to go home now, so if we could just wrap this up..?"

Brenda licked her lip slowly and glanced at Flynn from beneath her eyelashes. "Just show us on the map what exactly the shooters did when they left the store. Did you see anythin' unusual?"

Raydor was irritated by the question which seemed perhaps superfluous to her, would she, if she had seen anything, already have told them. "What I saw were three armed men, one of them white, leave the store and open fire on us." She pointed at the approximate locations on the map. "They ran across the street, shooting and wounding my fellow officer and then the two I didn't manage to hit, jumped into their stolen vehicle and drove off with nothing but a broken tail light."

The blonde glared across the table, frustrated with the woman for not realizing that she was only trying to get to the bottom of this, to help. Flynn took one glance at her and quickly spoke up. "Is that all?"

"Oh, gosh, let me try to remember because I sure haven't before."

"Captain Raydor!" Brenda breathed heavily then swallowed the scathing remark on the tip of her tongue. "Did the driver of the get-away car have a weapon?"

"I can't say."

"You can't say or you don't know?" Brenda prompted tersely.

"I do not know. I realize that this is a very tense situation and that you require answers as quickly as possible but I don't see a reason for you to attack me like you are because if you want to know something then all you have to do is ask."

Brenda glanced down at the map, traced the distance between then cars and the alley with her eyes, darting back and forth for a moment as she felt Raydor's piercing gaze on her.

"What is going on?" The brunette wondered suspiciously. "What aren't you telling me?"

"James Marino," the blonde said quietly.

"Who?"

"The victim. The one in-"

"I thought his name was Victor Johnston?"

Brenda cleared her throat and pointed at the alley. "James Marino, he was found dead here, in this alley."

Raydor shook her head, staring at the spot on the map. "I didn't know."

"It's dark back there," Brenda said, "street lamp's broken and it looks like he dragged himself into the alley." The blonde glanced up at Raydor, studied her features carefully. "We believe he was shot here…"

Captain Raydor pursed her lips after a moment of careful consideration then looked up at Brenda. "So, that's what all this is about? You're asking if it's possible that I shot him."

"No, I'm wonderin' why he was there to begin with, why he was shot – intentional or unintentional, that don't matter right now. We'll find the bullet that killed him but until we do, I need to know everythin' that happened tonight because there's a chance that this boy was there for a reason." Brenda lowered her head to catch Raydor's gaze that slowly dropped back to the map. "And if that's the case then he might be another piece of the puzzle that'll help us find out the truth."

"Well," the Captain murmured after a moment. "I didn't shoot him. The car was running the whole time, the tail lights provided a reasonable amount of light, add to that the fact that it was only 10.15 and not yet completely dark, I would've seen him if he had been in my line of fire when I was discharging my weapon and since I did not see him, I obviously could not have shot him."

Brenda blinked slowly, something in Raydor's voice sent a shiver down her spine; she was upset and angry, her voice was low and gravelly, there was something quiet about her, like a tiger lying in wait. Raydor was never as vulnerable as she appeared to be, Brenda thought suddenly, yet when her mind took her back to that one moment, the moment when Sharon Raydor had pressed her lips against hers, Brenda was pretty sure that she wasn't as brave as she appeared to be either.

She still remembered how Raydor tasted, something not many people knew, something intimate that no amount of thinking and rationalizing could ever erase. She had tasted the woman, consumed a little part of her and Raydor was privy to her taste as well, the texture of her lips, the little sound she made in the back of her throat.

It would always remain between them, always.

"Good, well, um…" Brenda said quickly as she realized her little lapse. "I think that's all for now, Captain. Thank you…for…cooperatin' with us."

"Of course…" Raydor said slowly, glancing at Flynn before she stood, smoothing the cardigan down again. "Um…if you could send Sergeant Elliott my way, I would very much appreciate it, Chief."

Brenda sucked her lower lip in coyly as she stood also, avoiding the brunette's gaze.

"Let me guess," Raydor drawled, "he's not here."

The blonde shook her head. "Probably not, no." Brenda expected a sarcastic remark, that the woman would at least give a scathing look but there was none of that.

"Then can somebody please call me a cab?"

It seemed like complete indifference except for the glimmer Brenda could spot in the woman's eyes, glimmering embers of anger, of the kiss lingering somewhere in the background. It was that bit of familiarity, an unexpected surge of sympathy for the woman, that made Brenda say what she said next.

"That won't be necessary, Cap'n. I can give you a ride home…"

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note:** Once again, thank you all for leaving such kind reviews. MirandaMinerva, you're too smart ;)

**Chapter Eleven:  
**

…there's Fire.

Nibbling on her lip, lowering her head slowly, her gaze strayed from the road and to the right inconspicuously, all just to catch a glimpse of Captain Raydor who was sitting in the passenger seat.

They had been driving for twenty minutes already but neither had said anything. What was there left to say anyway?

Things were different now, less heated. At least Brenda liked to think of it that way.

Stopping at a red light, the blonde let her eyes wander once again until she caught sight of Captain Raydor's exposed knee; she had a couple scrapes there, they had happened during the shooting but instead of feeling compassion or anything resembling it, Brenda just thought that the bruise, the tiny scratches that marred the woman's otherwise perfect…_perfect_ knee, looked so terribly out of place.

Brenda sucked her lower lip in coyly as her eyes darted to the Captain's face. Their gazes met unexpectedly, startling them both.

Brenda looked away and then glanced back real quick just to make sure Raydor wasn't looking at her anymore.

The woman was staring out of the window, doing that thing with her lips that Brenda always thought of as oddly unfitting for a woman of her…dragonesque deviousness; she looked downright cute like that.

_Awful._

Sometimes Brenda wondered what lay underneath that hard exterior and when she sometimes caught a glimpse, small and gone again in the blink of an eye, of a dorky, sweet yet odd girl, Brenda had an inkling, an image, which was almost instantly smashed to pieces when the woman opened her mouth again.

"Now I know why you always insist on separate means of transportation," Raydor said evenly. "You're embarrassed by your poor driving skills..."

The blonde realized that the light had turned green. She stepped on the gas, embarrassed for a tiny moment at her lapse but then she thought that she had had a very long day and a very long night, she was entitled to a lapse here and there after all of that.

She gave Raydor the evil eye.

And Raydor gave her that barely-there, very-pleased-with-herself, superior little smirk and a disapproving and mocking raise of the eyebrows.

_Oh, that woman!_

Brenda gritted her teeth, her nostrils actually flaring in anger that suddenly boiled up within her from practically out of nowhere. And to think she had actually felt for her!

She couldn't really pinpoint what it was about the woman that enraged her this much, that made her feel Argh! whenever they shared the same space. Raydor was just one recurring annoyance, asking questions that no one would ask, saying things no one else would ever bother to point out, criticizing things no one would find anything wrong with.

Sometimes Brenda could even predict what would next come out of the woman's mouth.

It was still a mystery though how Raydor managed to get under her skin like that.

She had done a lot of thinking over the past couple months and she had dedicated a fairly big amount of her thinking-time to Raydor and that thing they had had going on – because it had been a thing and not a nothing, Brenda knew that now.

She had made peace with it.

But now she felt familiar, unwelcome, uncomfortable and decidedly unexpected words pinch her in the butt.

_If you don't deal with things, they tend to catch up with you…_

Brenda glanced over at Raydor.

"Make a right here."

The blonde almost jumped and decided that she should rather concentrate on driving.

That awful scent, that smooth voice, that thick mane of hair, those lips and those eyes! Brenda's knuckles turned white as she gripped the steering wheel tightly.

In that moment Brenda felt like the most ridiculous person that had ever graced the earth. She could not at all stand the woman, she couldn't, ever, in a million years be even remotely friendly with her.

_How could you possibly be attracted to somebody like that?_

_How, for heaven's sakes?_

She glanced over again.

At that moment, Brenda wanted Raydor more than she had ever wanted her just because she knew now that if she could, she would have her way with the woman.

"Oh, for crying out loud, what is it?" Raydor turned a piercing stare at her.

Brenda narrowed her eyes, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. This was all Fritz's fault. Brenda had been perfectly fine with not dealing with all this but now that she had thought about her marriage, thought about Raydor, thought about work, the left-over simmer, the smoke, everything had just erupted a moment ago and turned into a full-out flame…

A wildfire.

It was all due to stress really. It wasn't like back when she had had early onset menopause and had blamed it on stress because she had known somewhere in the back of her head that it wasn't. Brenda had avoided the truth for as long she had been able to but that wasn't the case now, of course. At work, even though she had found a comfortable way of doing her job, sometimes the pressure just seemed unbearable.

Then there was Will constantly questioning her methods and it felt like people pitied her for not getting the Chief-thing even though she was perfectly fine with it.

And at home, well, she often felt like somebody's wife now…and not like Brenda Leigh Johnson. And then, when she was running away from all that, from the pressure at home, to distract herself with work, to hide at Major Crimes, she had to deal with people like Raydor.

It was stress.

"I owe you an apology," the blonde said suddenly. "When you said that I was sendin' you mixed signals, well, I've thought about that lately…and you may've been right."

"Oh?"

"Yes…oh," Brenda said and smiled a little at their familiar banter but turned serious again. "I tried blamin' you for what happened between us but…I've…I've been as much at fault as you."

Raydor nodded once, her eyes focused on the ceiling for a moment before she seemed to get a grip on her emotions. "There's my house…if you could just stop the car, please," she said tersely, already unbuckling her seatbelt.

Brenda did as she was told, irritated by the woman's dismissive behavior. "Captain-"

"I was just in a shooting last night, my fellow officer got hurt and I shot a guy in the leg and now you wanna talk about the possible implications of your…extramarital affairs."

"It was not an affair!" Brenda said immediately then stopped as common sense caught up with her; being defensive often indicated guilt, didn't it? She sighed and looked up at the house. "You should go on and get some rest."

Raydor cleared her throat and was about to get out when her hand stilled on the door handle. She sat like that for a moment as if she couldn't will her body to move. "I've had a truly horrible—tonight was—" Raydor sighed, unable to even admit that the night's events were affecting her. "All I can think of doing right now is asking you to come inside with me."

Brenda sat impossibly still; was she asking or was she merely trying to gauge Brenda's reaction? The blonde wasn't sure, her mind raced, what if she did ask? Would she dare? Would she just get out of the car and follow the woman inside?

Or would she have the strength to walk away from this?

She would have to, they were in the middle of an investigation and Captain Raydor was involved in it all. One lapse could jeopardize a potential successful outcome, it could ruin everything!

And, of course, she was still as married as the day they had met.

Brenda was just about to say something, to apologize, to explain when Raydor grasped the door handle again. The blonde impulsively lunged after her, caught the woman's hand in hers and pulled her back. Confronted with Raydor like this, holding her hand, Brenda felt at a loss. Her lips parted slowly as she started to comprehend in what precarious situation she had maneuvered herself into.

"I…I've done it again, haven't I?"

Raydor's eyes wandered about the car before they settled upon her, the expression on her face one of defeat, as if the joke was, yet again, on her and so Raydor nodded, her lips forming a silent 'yes'.

The blonde actually felt bad about it, suddenly aware that Captain Raydor, as she was sitting before her, was, perhaps, somewhat vulnerable tonight, not as put together as usual. Glancing down at their joined hands, wanting to stop all this and make it right yet unable to let go, Brenda couldn't help but smile embarrassedly and blush, coyly averting her eyes. "And here we are again," she drawled and let out a breathy laugh.

They both stared down at their joined hands.

Brenda felt her whole body turning first warm then hot. Her fingertips tingled.

Her pulse pounded visibly in her throat.

The woman was so warm and her skin was so smooth, so…so…

Brenda moved the pad of her thumb slowly to get a better feel, just a bit.

"It's…it's not that I don't want…it," she said slowly, her eyes landing on Raydor's. "I do. It's just that I-"

"That you can't," the Captain finished with a nod.

Staring into the woman's eyes, feeling her own resolve weakening and thinking that some things just didn't matter much in the grand scheme of things, like staring at the object of her very desire and thinking about sliding over there, ripping her blouse open and just letting Sharon Raydor take care of things.

The blonde's gaze turned heavy, smoldering as her mind pictured it, tried to imagine what it would be like between them.

She squeezed Raydor's hand tightly as she felt a tingle of immediate arousal at the mere thought of molding her body into hers, of the woman's lips against her own, of their want for each other driving them to unimaginable heights. Raydor squeezed back, her eyes connected with Brenda's so intensely that her gaze actually felt like a caress.

As Brenda came back to reality, she was still staring into the green, shining eyes of Sharon Raydor who gave her a look of permission, of surrender.

The blonde's eyes dropped to the woman's lips, she studied them for a moment then her eyes traveled along her jaw line, to her neck, her throat, her collar bone visible beneath her skin, to her breasts. Brenda thought she glimpsed a bit of the woman's bra as her chest heaved with every breath, that grew more labored the longer Brenda stared.

She couldn't get enough of what she saw, she wanted to see everything yet knew that she couldn't and also rather shouldn't but her eyes kept greedily studying all that was before her and for the first time she could actually look without having to pretend that she wasn't.

Eventually her gaze landed upon that exposed knee. The skirt had ridden up even further now and a bit of Raydor's thigh was exposed, her creamy and soft looking skin on display in a most titillating and alluring manner.

It was like staring at chocolate she knew she shouldn't have which only made her want it more. No one was watching though, no prying eyes, something that made Brenda rather nervous usually because she could only enjoy and indulge in chocolate fully when she was alone with it.

They had a special relationship, an intimate one, purely physical of course and somehow, when she wanted Raydor this much, Brenda started to compare the woman to chocolate.

She reached out with one hand but pulled back again a little. She hovered and sucked her lower lip in, suddenly feeling weak, trying to justify what she knew she would end up doing anyway.

Maybe she just needed a little bit, just to calm her nerves, just a bit to tide her over until she could actually get her hands on real chocolate.

Oh, she would eat her way through at least three Ding Dongs when she got home later.

_To hell with-_

Her fingertips made contact with the soft skin of Sharon Raydor's knee.

Maybe she should just do it, turn fantasy into reality, and because reality could hardly ever live up to ones fantastical desires, Brenda could stop lusting after an illusion afterwards.

Her fingers traveled upwards, caressing the truly silky skin. Brenda's mind went blank and maybe she wasn't even breathing that's how good this felt. Her hand, fingers, palm and all, caressed until she reached the hem of Raydor's skirt. It was the one barrier she knew she should not cross even though she wanted to, badly.

Her eyes darted to Raydor's, afraid the woman could see the unadulterated desire in her eyes and indeed she was studying Brenda's features intently. The blonde felt the skirt give way, the material no longer holding her back.

Her gaze dropped again and she saw that the Captain had grasped a fistful of her own skirt and had pulled the material up; Brenda expelled a slow, heavy breath at the sight and let her hand wander up further, caressing, tickling, marveling at the texture, at the tiniest imperfections, the warmth of the woman's flesh.

Her touch remained gentle even though Brenda wanted to do other things, even though she wanted to dig her fingertips into the woman's flesh and touch every bit of skin she could possibly reach. Instead she let her hand slide over the woman's knee again, to her calf and back to the back of her knee.

And then she let go, stunned at her own actions, stunned at the reality that made Brenda's imagination seem boring and tame in comparison to what she had just experienced. Clearing her throat, the blonde sat back in her seat, her skin damp from the sheer exhaustion, the result of having to restrain herself.

She glanced over and saw how Raydor smoothed her skirt down as if they had just given in to carnal lust and had practically eaten each other up then she just stared out of the window, trying to calm her breathing – that she heard Raydor pant in barely contained arousal right next to her didn't help matters at all.

After what felt like a while but was perhaps only a minute, Brenda glanced over once more, saw Raydor pinching the bridge of her nose, eyes closed and breathing shakily, her knees, thighs, pressed together tightly. Brenda flushed at the sight.

They sat like that for a bit until Captain Raydor cleared her throat also; the woman looked composed, as if nothing had transpired between them at all as she spoke. "I should go," she said, her voice a tad uncontrolled, a tad hysteric, the only indication that whatever lay beneath that exterior had been shaken. "Thank you for the ride, Chief Johnson."

"Oh, you're welcome, Captain."

"I'll see you-"

"Not tomorrow, you have to rest."

"Well-"

"G'night, Captain."

"Night, Chief."

They stared at each other for another moment then Raydor opened the door and got out.

As the passenger side door slammed shut and Brenda watched the woman ascend the stairs to her home, the blonde felt like somebody had just dumped a bucket of cold water over her head.

What in the world had she been thinking?

Yet she felt surprisingly little guilt and not even shame necessarily. It was embarrassment at how easily her desires had overruled her common sense.

She should have known that this would happen.

Correction, she had known somewhere in the back of her head – where there's smoke, right? So all her thinking had essentially been for nothing.

What she hadn't expected however was how quickly and thoroughly her hard-won principles had just gone up in flames.

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note:** Q: Is There Such A Thing As "Party Stress"? - A: Yes, There Is. Anyway, once again everyone, thank you for the great reviews - they mean a lot and I never take them for granted. Thanks you guys :)

**Chapter Twelve:**

Bullets

Brenda rolled onto her back, her hand flopping lifelessly onto the mattress. She wanted to tell Fritz to take care of it but there was no Fritz and it was her cell phone that was ringing anyway.

It still had the awful ringer.

Rolling over again, Brenda almost dropped the phone on her first try; it was just a little after 6.30 and she had had a very long night.

Right, it came back to her, Raydor, the shooting, Raydor's perfect knee.

"Deputy Chief Johnson..?"

"Chief!" It was Tao.

"Lieutenant…do you know what time it is?" Then she remembered how often she had called him in the middle of the night, disturbing his sleep and his family time. "Never mind…what is it, Lieutenant?"

"Chief," he sounded very excited, "we think we found the bullet."

"_The_ bullet?"

"We think so, Chief. It's a 9mm, it was imbedded in a plastic container. There's human blood on the projectile and now we only have to determine if it is James's blood, if the bullet is from any of the…certain Berettas or matches the 9mm bullets found at the scene. We also ought to wait for the autopsy, Chief, we can't be sure that-"

"Thank you, Lieutenant!" Brenda interrupted, now fully awake.

"But that's not all, Chief."

"There's more?"

"Yes. We also found burnt skin residue on the 9mm shell casings inside the store, the ones near the counter. It could mean that the shooter may have burns on his hands, his arms, his face, his neck, his-"

"I get the picture, Lieutenant. So, what about the bullet that hit Detective Mendoza?"

"We're still looking, Chief."

"Wait…are you still at the crime scene?" The silence that followed was answer enough. "Lieutenant, go on home now and get a couple hours of sleep, is that understood?"

"…yes, Chief, understood."

She hung up on him and fell back into the mattress. Her thoughts went directly to Raydor, it had been her first thought when she had first woken up to the incessant ringing of her phone and Brenda was pretty sure Raydor had guest-starred in her dreams too.

The blonde turned onto her side, curled up and cuddled her pillow for a moment then she tried to remember every tiny little detail of what had happened in the car. Raydor's voice, the way she looked at her, the way she breathed, the sounds she made, the way her skin felt under Brenda's fingertip, the material of her skirt, her scent, how her lipstick had almost been completely gone.

The feel of her hand in Brenda's, how tightly she gripped, how warm her palms were and how she had panted afterwards, breathed heavily, and how Brenda had done that to her, how she had made Raydor press her thighs together from the sheer arousal the blonde had induced with just a series of little touches.

How she had made Raydor lose her composure and give into it, give up control.

Brenda opened her eyes and stared into the semi-darkness of her bedroom, her cheeks suddenly warm.

She couldn't stop thinking about it.

She wanted the woman.

She wanted the woman now, in her bed, naked, sweaty, their lips molded together as they touched each other just where they needed it – no pretense, no caresses, no whispered declarations of love.

Sex. Tasting the woman's salty skin. Digging her fingers into her back. Biting, sucking, scraping. Raydor inside her.

Brenda moaned into her pillow then rolled onto her back and almost jumped right out of her skin.

_Beep beep beep._

She cleared her throat and pressed the call button. "Deputy Chief Johnson…"

It was Sanchez.

* * *

"Detective Sanchez? How's Detective Mendoza doin' today?"

Julio scrambled off the chair that had been his sleeping place last night and greeted the Chief and Gabriel with a nod. "She's doing much better since they transferred her earlier, Chief."

Brenda glanced into the room then back down the hall where friends and colleagues of Mikki's were camping out. "Who's the woman with her?"

"That's Marisol." Sanchez said as if the name was self-explanatory.

"Her girlfriend," Gabriel added, apparently in the know yet he did that raised eyebrow thing that usually indicated that he had an opinion about all of it.

"Oooh." So, dinner at the Caliente was just dinner and not a dinner-date at the Caliente.

"…her parents wouldn't even come," Julio said grimly, the concept of abandoning family entirely foreign to him.

Brenda gave him a small comforting smile and patted him on the shoulder. "Thank you for stayin', Detective. Why don't you go on home and get some rest."

"Chief…I'd really like to help."

"I know, but it's been a long night and you need rest."

"I got enough sleep here, Chief, I swear. All I need is a shower and fresh clothes." He glanced into the room then back at Brenda. "She's my friend, Chief, I need to help."

The blonde, having truly a sentimental heart, something Fritz had accused her of once, nodded slowly and regretted her decision less and less the broader Sanchez's smile grew. "Well, go on then, Detective. I'll see you in a bit."

"Thank you, Chief."

Brenda stared after him for a moment until Gabriel had knocked on the door and held it open for her. As she entered, two sets of eyes immediately landed upon her; Mendoza's were shining with genuine affection for a woman she only barely knew yet held in high esteem.

"Chief Johnson," Mikki said cheerily, trying to conceal her tiredness. "It's always a pleasure to see you…"

Brenda couldn't help but smile at the cadence; Mendoza was from the south, it wasn't as clearly audible as it was with Brenda but there was definitely an accent. The blonde treasured it, missing the drawl on occasion. "Detective Mendoza, I'm glad to see that you're doin' so well."

"Oh," Mendoza shook her head. "They say I'm going to make a full recovery but thanks to some stupid kid I'm stuck with two months of physical therapy." She glanced up at Marisol. "Where're my manners? Chief Johnson meet Marisol Garcia…"

Brenda bit her lip and grasped the woman's hand in hers in greeting. She was awfully pretty. Leave it to Mendoza to…

"It's a pleasure meeting you, Chief. I've heard so much about you."

"Oh, really? How nice…" Brenda commented, a little embarrassed by her train of thought.

"And this is Sergeant Gabriel."

"Actually," David held up his finger, "it's Detective Gabriel."

"Oooh, you probably aced the detective's exam, didn't you?" Mikki teased and by the coy expression flitting over David's features she was probably right.

"Well, uh," Marisol glanced at each of them. "Why don't I give you some privacy…" She squeezed Mikki's hand, nodded a brief goodbye and left.

Brenda walked around the bed slowly, noted the flowers her colleagues, and probably her girlfriend, had sent. Gabriel stayed at the end of the bed, his notepad in hand.

Mikki sighed as the door closed and sunk into the mattress. "I expected FID to show up here but not you, Ma'am."

"Let's just say that a higher power don't want FID investigatin' itself."

"Ah," Mikki smiled, "Chief Pope told them off."

Brenda smiled then adopted a more somber expression. "Detective…we really need your statement as soon as possible."

"I understand."

"Would you mind if I recorded this?"

"No, of course not, Chief, go ahead." Brenda dug into her purse and Mendoza decided to use the moment of apparent unawareness to conduct her own little interview. "So…how's Captain Raydor doin'?"

"Oh, you know," Brenda waved her off while rummaging around.

Mikki glanced at Gabriel who had his mouth clamped shut and was looking about the room as if he couldn't hear a thing they were talking about. "No, actually, I don't. I'm just wondering if she's doin' okay. She did a huge thing for me back there, y'know?"

"Oh, uh…" The blonde bit her lower lip, casting a glance at Gabriel who had suddenly turned away, arms crossed over his chest. "She's fine I guess." Her mind wandered to last night, to what had happened in the car, to the moment where Raydor had mouthed that silent 'yes'. "She's bein' stoic about the whole thing." She found the recorder and placed it on the little table beside the bed. "Alright, here we go…"

"Before we get to the details, I'd like to clarify a few things first, if you don't mind, Chief?"

Brenda glanced down at the recorder, put a smile onto her face and nodded. "Go ahead, Detective."

Mendoza glanced at David then back at her and sighed suddenly. "The only reason why I asked Captain Raydor to dinner was because I felt like we were kindred spirits and that it would be good to have friends in positions such as hers. I'd like to make clear though that friendly is all we were, just to put a stop to the rumors that are no doubt already circulating."

Brenda blinked, once, digesting what she had just heard. "I don't think people are assumin' anything, Detective." She knew it was a lie, she herself had harbored suspicions but perhaps that was only because she knew, unlike what she assumed were most, that Raydor was attracted to women, or rather one woman in particular.

"Well, he's thinking it, for one."

The blonde followed Mendoza's line of sight, her gaze landing on Gabriel who had adopted a surprised and nonchalant expression that seemed completely false and put on. "I'm not thinking anything…"

Mikki merely raised her eyebrows at him. "Yeah, well, I know what people are thinking. I'm used to my female colleagues keeping their distance in fear of being thought of as a lesbian and how many people on the force still harbor resentment. I know that Captain Raydor faces the same challenges thanks to the job she's doing which is why I thought we'd make good friends." Mendoza glared at David. "And that is all there is to it…"

Brenda cleared her throat, drawing the attention back to her before anyone could get angry and maybe say things they might regret afterwards. "Duly noted, Detective…so, why don't you tell us about what happened when you arrived at the address?"

Mendoza rubbed her forehead and while she did so, Brenda took a small moment to glance at Gabriel who made a face, yet tried to remain professional.

It wasn't the lesbian part that annoyed him, the blonde was sure, but rather that Mendoza had 'scored' with such a beautiful woman as Marisol. Perhaps she also reminded him of Irene.

"Well, uh, we arrived at the address, I was about to get out of my vehicle…then there were shots…" Mikki shook her head. "It's difficult to remember. I'm sorry, Chief."

Brenda adopted a comforting expression and tilted her head. "It's alright, Detective. Just tell us what you do remember, alright?"

Mendoza went quiet for a few moments, trying to get a hold of the memories. "They were three guys, two black males and one white. One of them had some sort of bandana covering his mouth, I think it was black with white…"

The boy…man, whatever he was, that Raydor had shot wore one, Brenda knew from Gabriel's report when she had walked into the hospital earlier.

"None of the others wore them?"

"Not as far as I could see, Ma'am."

That, pretty much, left them with nothing. The boy didn't have any I.D. on him, he refused to talk to anyone, much less tell them his name and they had also taken his prints but Brenda wasn't holding her breath on that one.

"The next thing I know is Captain Raydor kneeling over me and telling me to hang in there…" Mikki shook her head again. "I'm sorry I can't be of more help, Ma'am."

"You're doin' fine, Detective," Brenda said quietly and sat on the edge of the bed. "Now…I want you to close your eyes for me and try to remember what happened after you were shot, when you were on the ground…"

"…it's all a big blur, Ma'am."

"You're on the ground and Captain Raydor is shooting at the suspects. Do you remember any of that?"

Mikki's eyes opened. "I'm not really sure, Chief…there was screamin' but, Ma'am…" She glanced at Gabriel then back. "I'm not sure if that was me or somebody else."

"No…no, that's good. I need you to focus on the screamin', Detective. Could you make out different voices?"

Mendoza frowned. "I heard Captain Raydor calling out to me…"

"Anythin' else?" She was fishing now and they both knew but Mikki tried anyway.

There was silence for a bit then Mendoza looked up, surprised. "Sean."

"Sean?" Brenda glanced at Gabriel.

"Somebody called out for Sean."

Ha, the blonde thought and nodded slowly. Raydor had gotten it right the first time around but had been too unsure of herself to stick with her answer; it was surreal to Brenda that anything could make a woman such as Raydor waver like that.

"You've just helped us a great deal, Detective, thank you so much."

Mikki smiled. "My pleasure, Ma'am."

Brenda smiled back for a moment then dug into her purse once more. "Mikki…have you ever seen this boy at any point last night." She pulled the photo out and showed it to her with a practiced neutral expression.

Mendoza tilted her head and gave it some thought. "Can't say that I have, Ma'am."

"Did one of the suspects ever turn away from you?"

"I don't know, Chief, I really can't say."

"The man in the car, did he ever get out?"

"Not when I was lookin'. Why?"

Brenda smiled again. "Just to clear a couple things up but that's it for now, Detective. I'm sure you need some rest before all your friends come in to see you."

"Oh…okay. But if you need my help with anything, you know where to find me, Ma'am."

"Of course," Brenda grinned coyly and put the recorder back into her purse. "Well, Detective…get better soon."

"Thanks, Chief."

"Bye…bye now."

"Bye, Chief Johnson…Gabriel…"

He gave her a nod. "Mendoza."

* * *

It was time to talk to the juvenile delinquent.

They had put him in the room furthest from Mendoza's just in case tempers were running high among the police family, not that it would really do any good should one decide to pay him a little visit – after all, the unit posted by the door, just to make sure junior wouldn't make a run for it, was a cop too.

"You can take a little break, officer…get yourself a cup of coffee, why don't you?"

The officer nodded, seemingly grateful for having a short break from this rather thankless task. As he walked away, Brenda thought about how she was going to play this one. She hadn't heard much about the boy, just that he thought he was rather smart for not talking and that he may try to look tougher than he actually was.

Gabriel opened the door for her and in she went, smile firmly in place, recorder in hand. As the door closed behind them and she got her first good look at the kid, she wondered if somebody with that face could've done the things everyone knew he had done.

However, she had one chance and she either blew it right away or got them something useful to work with.

"Hello, Sean." He looked surprised for a moment and that was when Brenda knew that she could get him talking. "I'm Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson of the LAPD and this is Detective Sergeant Gabriel, I'm sure you remember him. I'd also like to let you know that this conversation is being recorded…"

She placed the device directly in front of him. "And when you talk, I'd like to ask you to speak clearly and in the direction of the recorder, just to make sure we won't be missin' anything. Now, Detective Gabriel is going to inform you of your rights again…"

David stepped forward without hesitation, they were a great team after all, and did his duty. "You have the right to remain silent, everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one, one will be appointed to you. Have you understood these rights, sir?"

He said 'sir' on purpose, Brenda rather liked it. "You can just nod if you want to." He didn't nod. "I'd like to note that the suspect has made no indication that he understood his rights…now, Sean, the doctors told me that you'll be fine without painkillers soon, did they tell you that?"

Nothing.

"Well, I want you to understand that we don't need you to talk to us at all. We don't need your help, all we need, really, is to wait 'til you're a little better and then we'll take you downtown and charge you with the murders of Victor Johnston and James Marino, and the attempted murder of two police officers…that's a capital crime, just so you know…Sean."

She tilted her head and smiled sweetly at him, letting him know that she didn't really mean it and caught sight of the perspiration dampening his forehead. "Detective Gabriel, how old would you say Sean is?"

"20…21…definitely capable of making his own decisions, Chief."

He really exaggerated on that one – perfect. "I thought so. Well, sir, looks like you did understand your rights perfectly…because only an idiot wouldn't cry minor if they actually were one…I mean, we do still have the death penalty here in California and two people are dead…so…we all know what happens to people like you, sir."

His breathing had accelerated, more sweat dampened his forehead, his eyes were wide and Sean's fingertips were digging into the hospital blanket. Any second now.

"I'm only 16, okay? I'm minor, you can't really charge me with anything, I'm not stupid, okay?"

"Of course not," Brenda said, "then let's just contact your mother and-"

"No! I didn't do anything!"

"Sean! As you yourself just stated, you're a minor and because of that, I cannot question you any further, do you understand? This interview is over and will have to wait until we located your parents, alright?"

Sean's face fell somewhat then he adopted an angry expression.

"Now. Your phone number, please."

He crossed his arms and looked away; he tried to toughen up but there were tears in his eyes. Brenda didn't feel all that bad for him – he had shot at cops after all.

They walked out on Sean then, without his phone number of course but Brenda didn't worry too much about that anyway. "He's 16, chances are somebody's gonna report him missin'." The officer hadn't returned yet and Brenda had a whole lot of better things to do than to guard Sean's door. "Can you get on that, please?"

"Sure, Chief."

"And we need to take a look at Victor's room, if you could call Detective Sanchez for me, please and tell him to meet me there…" She sighed and rolled her eyes. "I have to call Lieutenant Provenza, we might need his expertise."

David lifted his eyebrows. "His expertise?"

Brenda put on a smile and waved over Gabriel's shoulder. "Sergeant Elliott, wohoo."

"…I think I'm gonna call Sanchez now." Gabriel stepped away right as Elliott arrived; the Sergeant was everybody's least favorite person at the moment, it wasn't his personality which everyone thought of as rather bleak, but the relentless nosiness required of a successful officer of Internal Affairs.

"Chief Johnson…what a coincidence meeting you here," he remarked sarcastically. "You already spoke to Detective Mendoza…"

Brenda worried her bottom lip and glanced at Gabriel who had positioned himself near a corner but wasn't there anymore. Instead her gaze fell on a young African American but she spotted David pacing a little further down the hall. "Look, Sergeant, if you want to be part of this investigation you will have to keep up with me."

"Well," he said contritely. "Usually it's the other way around – I have people follow me."

"Then that must be somewhat of a change for you, Sergeant but I suggest you get used to it. Now," she glanced at Gabriel again, he was still on the phone and then her gaze went back to the young man because subconsciously she felt like she had to and saw him trying to look as if he wasn't really there. "Now, I'm going to meet with Detective Sanchez to take a look-see at Victor Johnston's room whereas Detective Gabriel is going to search missing persons' for a matching Sean so we can find his legal guardian and actually talk to the boy."

She really hoped Elliott would take the bait. "Fine. I'll go with him but I'd like to be notified as soon as you find anything."

"Of course…" Brenda lied and then Elliott walked away, past the young man, while shaking his head in frustration. Releasing a deep, relieved breath and watched the young man walk past her nonchalantly. She wasn't sure why her gaze kept landing on him, it was an instinctual thing, that is, until she spotted an odd mark on his neck, close to his jaw.

He walked right past her, calmly, seemingly confident and then, when she saw the back of his head and wondered about the mark, it suddenly came to her.

"Stop! Sir!"

And he ran.

"LAPD!" She went after him and thought about what an idiot she had been but that's what happens when you have important conversations when you're practically still asleep. DNA on shell casings – burn marks on the neck.

She saw him enter the staircase and then Elliott flew right past her.

Brenda was rather good at running in heels but even she couldn't outrun Elliott or Gabriel, who ran past her also. She grabbed the first hospital personnel she could find, which happened to be a nurse in pinkish scrubs and pulled out her badge while simultaneously talking. "LAPD. Is there any way to seal off the entrances to the hospital?"

"Um…"

Gabriel caught the door as it was about to swing shut and heard Elliott under him. David took the first flight of stairs, the second and jumped the last three steps then he heard a suspicious bang from upstairs. "Damn!" He turned on his heel and sprinted up, Elliott right behind him – he was a fast runner, David had to give him that.

They took six flights of stairs and arrived on a rather deserted looking floor. "Damn…" Gabriel whispered again.

"Let's take the staircase on the other end," Elliott suggested and set off, David on his heel. As they arrived and took the first steps down, they heard another bang coming from almost all the way down. "He's fast!"

No kidding. David felt his lungs burn already. He was a jogger and he did some light boxing now and then but he was feeling his body giving him little warning signals already which surprised him quite a bit. But there was no time to worry, was there?

They burst through a door, any further down and they would have been in the garage, and found themselves on the ground floor. "The exits!" They set off in the direction of the main exit in hopes of catching sight of the man somewhere outside.

"Stop! No one in, and no one out!" A security guy stopped them and another was already approaching. "This building is on lock-down."

"What?" Gabriel almost screeched, breathing heavily.

"Some LAPD thing, no need to worry, okay? Just simmer down, why don't you?"

"We are the LAPD," Elliott interjected and showed off the badge clipped to his pants. "Did anyone run outta there in the past minute or so?"

"Nah, no way."

"Damn, damn, damn! We lost him!" Elliott stormed off, Gabriel going right after him, and slumped into a chair in the waiting area. "Damnit! That was one of 'em, wasn't it?"

"Hey, man, why don't you just chill, alright?"

Elliott nodded reluctantly and rubbed his face tiredly. "Damn…I know you can't stand her guts but I just wanna make this right for Captain Raydor."

Gabriel rolled his eyes inwardly yet nodded and patted Elliott on the back.

"Gentlemen," Brenda had just exited an elevator.

"He got away, Chief," said Gabriel.

"Smart bastard," Elliott supplied.

Brenda didn't care much about that now, what was done was done, she was already working on their next possible step. "Sergeant, I need you to get us the security footage but you cannot share that with anyone, especially Captain Raydor, is that clear?"

"But…Captain Raydor is the most reliable witness here. She could surely tell us if it's the guy."

"And then what? We already know he's 'the guy', Sergeant and we may need Captain Raydor to identify him later on and she can't do that when we show her a picture of the suspect. Now, get the footage, get a warrant if necessary, and deliver it, personally, to Major Crimes, understood?"

Elliott nodded. "You got it, Chief."

"Good. Detective…"

"Going over the missing persons' reports."

Brenda sighed. "Alright then. I'll see y'all back downtown later…hopefully I'm gonna find out why someone would want Victor Johnston dead."

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note: **Thanks everyone for the encouragement - I really love all your positive feedback! Knowing that somebody appreciates this little story means a great deal to me, thank you! I know it's going slow but things are about to get interesting, so please hang in there :)

**Chapter Thirteen:**

Dodged That One

"Two things," Will said by way of greeting. "One, we're not going to leak a picture of our suspect to the media and two, when are you going to tell that poor mother that her son is dead?"

Brenda scoffed and started walking in the direction of her office, Will hot on her heels. She had just gotten back from James Marino's autopsy and before that she had had the unpleasant task of rifling through a dead boy's room under the eyes of his grieving uncle and then she had had to call Lieutenant Tao back in, which was somewhat regretful yet necessary.

Elliott had gotten them the hospital footage and Buzz and Tao were going over it with a fine toothcomb.

"First of all, he's not just our suspect, he could be a minor who is being missed by his mother and the sooner we get the legal guardian, the sooner I'm talkin' to him. And second," she slammed the door a little as they entered her office. "Second, we still don't know yet what even happened to the boy."

"What do you mean, what happened to the boy? You were just at the autopsy or were you not?"

"Well," Brenda dumped her purse on her desk. "He choked to death on his own blood after being shot. Now, the problem is-"

"Oooh, no, why do I feel like I'm not going to like where this is going?"

"The problem is that we're not really sure who shot him yet."

"And what does that mean?"

The blonde opened her sweets drawer and rummaged around in it. "Unfortunately the boy was in the direct line of fire of our officers…so…"

"Oh, god…"

"But, we do have the bullet and it's bein' examined right as we speak. So, I decided to wait a little with the notification until we're sure who actually shot James before we go knockin' on his mother's door with practically no answers."

"Right." Will nodded, seeing her logic then shook his head. "Be that as it may, you've delayed the notification long enough and it's time to inform the mother, she's been calling us for hours which I'm sure Detective Gabriel knows and has made you aware of, seeing as he has been with missing persons almost all morning."

Brenda pursed her lips and closed the sweets drawer with no chocolate in her hand, instead her eyes focused almost obsessively on her cashmere cardigan that was draped over one of the visitors' chairs. "Well…you're the one who transferred this case to Major Crimes, so I'm assumin' you don't want an FID approach to the whole thing."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just sayin'," Brenda shrugged nonchalantly, "if I were Raydor, I wouldn't tell that mother anythin', not before havin' at least the answer to the most important question."

"If you were Raydor, you would follow protocol and do as I say."

Brenda's face fell. "Well then it's good that I'm not her, isn't it?"

Will blinked. "What's the matter with you?"

True, Brenda thought, what was the matter with her? "…that woman," she mumbled and left.

* * *

"What a bust," Flynn said as he came through the doors and into Major Crimes. "I was just up at the prison to notify Victor's father of his son's death because he's technically still the next of kin and what did the Aryan bastard do? He didn't even give a damn." Flynn slumped down in his chair. "What's all this?" His eyes wandered from picture to picture on the big white board.

"That," Provenza said, "is what the Chief and Sanchez found under Victor's bed. Almost half a kilo of cannabis, ready for sale."

"And who's he?" Flynn pointed at another picture of rather bad quality.

"He," Sergeant Elliott said who had hidden inconspicuously at Gabriel's desk, "is a person of interest. He hung around Sean Doe's room and he ran…seems pretty interesting to me, don't you think?"

Flynn made a face. "No kidding..?" He turned to Provenza. "Are we working with them now?"

Provenza snorted and glanced at Elliott who heard every word. "He's following the Chief around like a puppy, almost as bad as Raydor, I'm telling you."

"Yeah," Flynn said lightly, "she's a shark that just won't let go once its sunk its teeth into you."

"Lieutenant Flynn," Chief Johnson said as she burst out of her office, Pope on her heels. "I need you to go to Victor Johnston's autopsy, please. Lieutenant Provenza, if you could help Buzz with the video, I need Lieutenant Tao sortin' out this whole ballistics' mess for us…" She stared at the satellite picture of the crime scene that was dotted all over and made a noise in the back of her throat at the sight of it.

"Detective Sanchez, how far are we on Victor's cell phone records?"

"I'm about to get a warrant and we should have it in about an hour, Chief."

"Good, now, Sergeant Elliott, with me, please. We're goin' to do a notification."

"Oh, by the way," Elliott said and opened his little notepad, which seemed a rather superfluous gesture. "Lieutenant Tao figured out how our person of interest there got past security. He climbed out of a bathroom window, Chief."

Brenda blinked and then Flynn said, "Why didn't you just say so before?"

"Does it sound important?"

"Everything is important-"

"Everyone calm down," Brenda said and rubbed her forehead. "I want y'all to play nice until this whole mess is over, understood?"

Flynn cast a weary glance at Elliott and nodded. "Sure, Chief."

Elliott lifted his eyebrows disapprovingly then shrunk back as Pope came into his line of sight, reminding him of the authority in the room. "Of course, Chief."

And to think that Brenda had just started to warm up to the guy.

* * *

Death notifications were never easy, ever and no matter how many you did, they were always awful, not something one could be prepared for. Brenda hated telling the mothers most, their world ended that day and Brenda became the main character in the worst day of their lives.

Perhaps it was selfish to think of it like that, it wasn't her job to be liked but forever being a reminder of one of the worst things that could happen to somebody made Brenda hope desperately that she would never encounter the people ever again.

She had even once dreamt of them, of standing in a checkout lane at her local grocer and of how, suddenly, the woman behind her started crying and then the woman behind that one and the one behind that one until even the cashier was in tears, reminded of how Brenda had told her of her husband's death.

Tina Marino, James's mother, hadn't even noticed that her son had been gone until in the morning when she noticed that his door was still locked, that he hadn't gone to school since his backpack was lying in the same spot and that he wasn't in his room as far as she could see through the window.

They had had a fight about money, about how James wanted things they couldn't afford. Tina went to her night-job afterwards and James locked his door and climbed out of his bedroom window.

She had called herself a horrible mother because she hadn't even felt that her son was dead, somehow that thought brought on most of the guilt.

Sergeant Elliott had stood stony-faced next to the couch the entire time.

Brenda sat in her office as she tried to think it all through once again. They had nothing whatsoever and if she couldn't produce answers soon, people would come asking even more questions.

Usually, she thought, she wasn't like that, it took however long it took, no one could rush Chief Johnson.

Crime doesn't follow a schedule but it unfolded itself in time. Here a tug, there a tweak and the whole thing fell apart, at least that was how Brenda thought of it.

They still had Sean and it was just a matter of time until somebody missed him.

Brenda nodded to herself and glanced at the cashmere cardigan draped over the chair in front of her. She hadn't dared touch it yet had tried to pretend that she didn't care that it was right before her nose, always in her line of sight.

She didn't care. Brenda pursed her lips and glanced away.

She sat like that for a second and then another and another and then she opened her candy drawer and grabbed the Ghirardelli chocolate bar that she had actually wanted to keep for a special occasion.

Staring at the cardigan that Raydor had worn, that had touched the woman's bare skin, had soaked up her scent and had felt the warmth radiating off of her, maybe wasn't a special occasion but perhaps a special circumstance.

Brenda bit into the chocolate.

"Mmm…"

And stared at the cardigan.

She hadn't anticipated things getting even worse than they had already been.

It was one thing to lust after the woman but a whole different one to have her thoughts completely overtaken by her. Brenda couldn't stop thinking about her even when she tried.

She had left the blinds drawn so that she had a reason to pull it together, it wouldn't do to have her squad see her daydream with a silly expression on her face but then again, she could've just closed the blinds and succumbed to it since there seemed to be very little fight left in her anyway.

Brenda kept wondering though while they all waited in a sort of stasis for the DNA results, for the new missing persons coming in, for anything that would get them anywhere, but Brenda wasn't much thinking about all that, she was wondering what Raydor might look like when she did more than just touching her knee.

What sounds the woman would make, how she would feel, move, taste, smell. What would it be like to rub their sweaty bodies against one another?

That look Raydor had given her, something that hadn't registered in Brenda's mind at first but now that she had thought about the whole incident, became perfectly clear in her mind's eye. That look of fearful anticipation; Raydor, afraid of what that little touch would do to her yet unable to deny herself the pleasure. Wanting, expecting, and commanding with a sprinkle of uncertainty; it was the most compelling thing Brenda had ever seen.

Desire shining in her eyes, a look of appreciation for Brenda that the blonde had never seen Raydor direct at her, a gaze that had told her that the woman wanted her, desired her, craved the same physical intimacy. Brenda had seen in that one look something that made her feel so weak, so much more attracted to Raydor, that she started cursing herself for not going with the woman, for not going inside with her.

Outside, in the murder room, Provenza glanced up yet again and found Chief Johnson in the same position he had found her in only about five minutes ago – elbows on her desk and her chin supported by the palm of her hand while she was nibbling on a pen.

Her expression was one of complete focus. She wasn't just staring off into space, no, she was working on a mental puzzle.

Or maybe she wasn't.

Provenza shook his head and rolled his eyes. He had barely finished his roll when somewhat of a whirlwind burst into Major Crimes. Delicate high heels produced precise clicks and clacks that informed anyone who cared to pay attention of the owner's character.

The bitch was back. He would never say that out loud but she was a bitch and she intimidated him. He could shut anyone up, especially women, with a crud remark but Raydor wasn't like that, she was just as bad, or maybe even worse than him. She would probably have a hysterical laughing fit or feel complimented if he were ever to call her bitch.

As she swept past him, Provenza became aware of a couple things at once; Raydor should not be here, the Chief wouldn't appreciate the interruption, and if he didn't get his ass in gear there would be fireworks judging by the way Raydor marched straight towards Chief Johnson's office.

"Oh! Captain!" He hauled himself out of his chair and hurried after the woman. "Captain!"

"Yes, Lieutenant?" Raydor answered, not stopping, not turning around.

"Captain! Wait! Shouldn't you be at home?"

Raydor marched on. "Shouldn't you be retired?" And then she barged into the Chief's office.

Behind him Flynn let out a whistle and Sanchez conveyed his amusement, as well as his slight displeasure, with a single howl.

Bitch.

Brenda meanwhile was jolted out of her daydreams by the very object that starred in all of them. At first the blonde hadn't even noticed that her eyes weren't trailing a mere fantasy but, fortunately, she realized her lapse right before the woman barged into her office.

"Cap'n Ray-" She was rudely cut off.

"Chief, there is something I need to speak with you about right now."

Brenda blinked at the woman, stood and was about to offer Raydor a seat when the woman turned around, hands on her hips and started pacing the length of her office. "I think that there might be the possibility that I may have made a-"

"Captain," the blonde interrupted before Raydor could say any more. "Cap'n, I don't think this is a conversation we should be havin'. If you have concerns about last night, you should maybe talk to a counselor."

"I don't wanna talk to a counselor," Raydor said immediately, "and the only concerns I have are with my initial statement which I realized might be faulty."

Brenda crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Captain," she said pointedly, "this is not at all necessary."

"But it is!" Raydor threw her hands in the air, an uncharacteristic gesture. "It was dark, the street lamp was broken and tail lights don't provide all that much light…just because I didn't see him doesn't mean I haven't shot him, Chief. There is the possibility that I did shoot him and-"

"But you didn't!" Brenda said loudly, unable to take all this anymore.

"S'cuse me?"

The blonde's fingernail tapped the report on her desk which she then rounded. "We think we found the bullet that killed the boy…it's a 9mm but I was just informed that it was clearly not yours." She stepped closer than necessary yet didn't find it too close; perhaps it was the intimacy between them, all the physical things they had already shared that made Brenda so unaware, uncaring, of their proximity.

She then lowered her voice to a whisper, knowing that she technically wasn't allowed to share this information yet. "We're still waiting for the DNA results but the blood type matches that of James Marino."

Raydor blinked at her, her eyes darting about for a moment, watering as they did. "So I've gotten lucky."

Brenda shook her head, uncrossing her arms. "Maybe…but the reality is that you did not shoot James and that's all that matters right now." Lowering her head to catch the woman's gaze, Brenda put her hands on her hips, forgetting for a moment that everyone who cared could watch. "Now, I want you to go home, Captain, and that's an order. Get some rest…"

Raydor let out a slight, sarcastic laugh. "Rest?"

"Just do as I say for once…"

"I do as you say all the time, Brenda," the woman said with a husky voice that wasn't necessarily intended to be sexy but rather provocative.

The blonde's lips parted, no sound came out and she was about to make something up when she was saved by a knock on the door. As Raydor stepped away from her and turned, Brenda felt her face fall and her heart constrict painfully within her chest.

She hadn't told Fritz about all this yet and now there he was.

He looked less than pleased as he entered, casting a somewhat weary glance at Raydor then turned a hard look on Brenda who tried with all her might to look nonchalant, as if there wasn't anything wrong with this.

"I should leave," Raydor said suddenly, "I wouldn't want to disobey a direct order, Chief."

Brenda gave her a quick, false smile and watched the woman go in order to avoid looking at Fritz.

"Ah," Fritz said loudly. "Officer involved shooting…did you count on me figuring that out on my own so that you didn't have to tell me or did you keep this from me on purpose?"

Brenda cleared her throat and brought her gaze on him, irritated for being attacked like this. "I'll have you know that I would have told you if you had actually been there but, as we all know, you're very busy lately."

"We're not making this about me."

"And Raydor isn't investigatin' anythin' – she's the officer involved in the shootin' and I can't just avoid talkin' to the witnesses, now can I?"

"I know," Fritz interjected, "I already heard about Raydor-"

"Right, you're liaising with the LAPD…"

"And I didn't appreciate the fact that you haven't told me about it yet!"

"Because there was no time!" Brenda replied loudly then glanced out at her squad who were clearly trying to look busy. "This whole Raydor thing, I know it was my fault but," and then she lied, "it's all over now and I think it's time you stopped harrassin' me with it. Let me just do my job." She felt awful yet somewhat unapologetic and deserving of that little bit of meanness.

"Alright," Fritz said eventually which came as a slight surprise to Brenda who had expected him to look right through her, to see the lie in her eyes even though she was pretty good at it, the lying part, she had been trained to do it yet had always been bad at it when it came to personal things.

Playing a part was easy when you weren't trying to hide behind a different personality.

But this? Brenda was taken aback. She had lied about the whole thing, she knew it, but nothing happened, her secret was safe and Fritz looked much better when he was at ease than he did when angry at her. Disappointment just wasn't something she liked to see in his eyes, so finding a way around it, sparing him the emotional turmoil, certainly was a justifiable reason for a lie.

All was good.

Then there was suddenly a slight commotion outside. Taylor had just come in, said something and then everyone was grabbing their coat.

"So, how about we go for an early lunch?"

Brenda trailed Taylor's progress with her eyes. "Um…" She stepped around Fritz just as Taylor reached her door and came in. "Commander…"

"Chief," he said with a satisfied glint in his eyes. "They found the car, partially burnt out."

Brenda pressed her lips together in displeasure.

"But the good news is that they apparently left their guns behind."

The blonde scoffed and walked right past him. "And how is that good news, Commander?"

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note: **Well, here it is, the new (boring) chapter :) I promise, things will get more exciting soon but until then you guys will have to hang in there for a bit longer, sorry. Anyway. Thanks to everyone who commented on the story, I really appreciate it and am always encouraged by such positive feedback.

**Chapter Fourteen:**

Two Down

"This is awful," Brenda said and wrinkled her nose. "What do you think that is?"

Tao leaned in and tilted his head. "I think it used to be a CD."

"Really?"

Tao picked the deformed mass up and inspected it. "Definitely, Chief."

Brenda leaned back, out of the car and sniffed, the smell of burnt plastic piercing her senses, making her eyes water with its sharp, acidic scent.

SID had wrapped the whole car up, a big SUV, just to make sure no evidence were lost during the transport and had towed the whole package into a garage. Now Brenda was staring at what was left of the get-away car which didn't look all that impressive.

"Take this, Chief," Tao held a mask out to her and covered his nose and mouth with one as well as they leaned back in.

"What are those tiny holes everywhere?" The backseat and the back of the front seat were full of them.

"The cartridges in the weapon exploded under the heat of the fire, Chief. The magazine of the TEC-9 we found was almost completely destroyed."

Brenda looked up at him over the top of her glasses. "But the barrel is still intact?"

"Yes," Tao said immediately, "We will be able to match the bullets to the ones we found at the crime scene." He held out the bagged TEC-9 to her. "We found a partial and maybe, if we're lucky, we'll find a match. Also, there's an extended magazine in this weapon, Chief, a cheap rip-off."

"Well, it's been a while since I've last seen one of these," Brenda drawled as she eyed the gun. "What about the other one, the .38?"

"A Taurus. The magazine was empty and the weapon was barely exposed to the fire, it should still be functional."

Brenda nodded and glanced at the gun lying on a table, also bagged in plastic, sealed and ready to be taken to ballistics'. "Not the usual hardware, if I may say so myself."

"I thought so too, Chief which is why I took a closer look at the Taurus and noticed that the serial number must have been filed off a long time ago." He bent over the weapon, as did Brenda, completely disregarding his personal space. "Oxidation took place…"

"There's rust," she mumbled and took off the mask, her sense of smell dulled already by the constant assault. "And what about this?" She moved further along the table, Tao right beside her, and looked down at a bagged rear-view mirror.

"We found a print-"

"I thought the car had been wiped down…"

"It was but maybe one of the suspects adjusted the mirror and forgot about it afterwards or-"

"Maybe it's the owner's print," Brenda finished and put on her glasses to get a better look at the mirror.

"Possible, Chief."

Brenda sighed. "Well," she drawled and pulled on her left glove. "Let's see how far Detective Sanchez is on the phone records," she said more to herself than anyone.

"We'll find something, Chief," Tao tried to be reassuring.

"Yeah, well, we've found a whole lot of stuff, Lieutenant but nothing that'll get us anywhere anytime soon." She pulled off the second gloved and threw them in the trash. "You rush those fingerprints and tell ballistics' to hurry it along a little – say it's for Chief Pope if you have to."

"Understood, Chief."

"You said you found the bullet that hit Detective Mendoza?"

Tao nodded. "Yes, imbedded in Captain Raydor's car. The bullet is badly deformed from the impact I'm afraid but ballistics' were able to isolate a couple rifling marks that we will hopefully be able to match to one of the guns."

"You don't even know which caliber it is?" Brenda asked, her voice rising as she threw the gloves in the trash can.

"I'm sorry, Chief."

Brenda sighed, it was his fault, and hauled her purse over her shoulder. She took off her glasses, nodding at Tao, and hung them on her top then she glanced at her watch. Time was slowly running out. "Thank you, Lieutenant," she said absentmindedly and breezed through the door.

On her way back to Major Crimes, she contemplated the situation. They had one young man dead, his murder executed ruthlessly. Victor Johnston hadn't been a model citizen and perhaps an even worse teenage brat but that was hardly motivation enough for killing him…although, Brenda thought, she had seen people getting killed for much less than being difficult.

Perhaps the whole crime was drug related. They had found the stuff, literally, under Victor's bed, yet Brenda couldn't help but wonder about that very thing. If it had been drug related, why didn't the killers try to obtain the drugs in question, they sure were worth a lot, weren't they?

Brenda sighed. Perhaps drugs had nothing to do with it.

_You killed her, you pervert!_

That's what the witness in the store had heard. Now, pervert wasn't your usual, every-day insult – it was rather specific.

The person with the .38 had shot him point blank, not once, not twice, but all of four times which sounded pretty personal to Brenda.

Then there was the matter of James. It seemed as if he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. There were no similarities, nothing he had in common with Victor Johnston. They were of different ages, went to different schools, lived in different parts of town, had different backgrounds; the only thing Brenda couldn't figure out was why James was there in the first place?

Finding the answer to that particular question was perhaps secondary but Brenda wondered nonetheless.

She also wondered what Raydor was doing right now. Her earlier outburst, if you could call it that because Raydor never actually burst, still very much on Brenda's mind.

…if that had been how the woman looked like when she was really upset, Brenda couldn't imagine how cathartic and anticlimactic a breakdown of hers must look like.

Just like Brenda, Raydor had herself in check and under control. Of course, the blonde thought, she had the chocolate, although she didn't just eat all of it at once, it was an indulgence, a little bit of feel-good medicine for her, so, technically, she had the chocolate under control as well. Or at least she liked to think so…after all, she could always quit if she wanted to.

Brenda just wondered what Raydor allowed herself.

And then she remembered how the woman had tried to provoke a response, how she had used her first name, had put that look on and had lowered her voice to a husky whisper.

Maybe Raydor was better at hiding her desires than Brenda and if that was true, the blonde contemplated, then Raydor must want her an awful lot, if earlier was any indication.

And she also seemed to resent her a little bit for it, judging by the scathing undertones of the look Brenda had received.

She tried to not think about that though but instead her mind became increasingly preoccupied with what Raydor might think, might like, might do to her if given the chance. She didn't even know the woman, at all.

So it was just a physical thing; somehow, Brenda felt comforted by that.

* * *

_"You'll pay for what you did to her!" _

There was a brief silence then a beep.

_"Come on, you asshole, go to the cops or I will!"_

Beep.

_"You perverted pig, I'll make you pay!"_

And finally, _"I'm going to kill you!"_

Brenda lifted an eyebrow as Sanchez clicked off the digital recorder which had just reproduced the messages that had been left on Victor Johnston's voice mail.

"Sounds pretty personal to me," Elliott said from Gabriel's desk which he still occupied.

Flynn was still at the autopsy but Brenda was pretty sure that he wouldn't return with any startling discoveries. Provenza was probably lazing about with Buzz while they went over every frame of the security footage in case it revealed anything useful and Gabriel was still stuck with missing persons' which, Brenda imagined, he was probably getting fed up with soon.

Julio, who had gone over the phone records, a job usually reserved for Tao, just nodded slowly then glanced at Brenda. "The calls were all made from a phone booth on Anderson, mostly around two or three o'clock…"

The blonde crossed her arms and squinted at the phone records.

"Other than that the only frequent calls are from his uncle, um, some friends and a girl named Sue Marlowe but the calls stopped two months ago."

"Maybe his girlfriend," Elliott supplied unnecessarily since everyone else had already been thinking it.

Brenda contemplated the situation once more then nodded. "Alright, gentlemen, let's go and have a look-see."

* * *

Brenda let her gaze sweep over the Italian restaurant, over the shoe store, the second hand store and the little neighborhood drug store with, what looked like, plenty of candy. The phone booth looked fairly ordinary, the most outstanding thing about it being its cleanness.

The phone book was still partially intact, no cords were cut, and there were only a moderate amount of graffiti gracing it.

"I guess this one's a bust too," Elliott mumbled to himself then looked up and around for the first time. "Or maybe…"

Brenda looked in the general direction he was looking and spotted what looked like a school.

"Hey, wait a minute," Elliott turned to Sanchez, "St. Mary's High School, isn't that the one Victor went to?"

Julio nodded. "St. Mary's…I think Sue Marlowe went there too, Chief."

The blonde stood still for a moment, stunned not at the discovery but rather at the fact that she hadn't noticed. She chastised herself and wondered if, maybe, she was a little too preoccupied lately. If maybe she was thinking about Raydor too much.

Brenda rummaged through her purse, avoiding Elliott's gaze, afraid that thoughts of Raydor produced a certain trademark look on the thinker's face and that he could somehow identify it immediately. It was ridiculous, ludicrous but at that moment Brenda felt rather transparent.

She pulled out a file at last and opened it, squinting at the pages. Where were her glasses? She looked in her purse, her fingers closing around a Ding Dong, something she hadn't dared eat for some time now.

"Chief?" Julio lifted his eyebrows at her, his gaze dropping.

Brenda followed it and there were her glasses, hanging on her top.

She was being silly and terrible and obvious.

"…St. Mary's, there it is. Well, looks like this isn't a total bust, now is it, Sergeant?"

Elliott gave her a half-shrug and trotted behind her, which was rather unbecoming for a man of his stature and dress. Brenda wondered, as they walked, if he had his clean-cut style from Raydor.

The bell rang as they were halfway there and suddenly kids flooded the school's premises. Babbly teenage girls, hormonal lovebirds and the occasional strutting jock. "Keep an eye out for familiar faces, gentlemen," she said and watched as three school busses rolled up. The kids were practically streaming in their direction, eager to get home.

It was then that an old Lincoln drove up and parked, illegally, on the other side of the street. A young man got out if the passenger side and Brenda recognized him instantly; she poked Sanchez with her elbow and nodded her head towards the man. "Look familiar?" A smile slowly formed on her lips as she saw the burn marks on the young man's neck. "Seems like we'll get another shot at this, gentlemen…"

The three of them slowly moved towards the ever-growing crowd of teenagers with which the young man was mingling. He approached one of the older teens, they talked briefly and then money was exchanged.

"Is he dealing drugs?" Elliott wondered aloud as they watched the man sprint across the street to the car then lean through the driver window and reemerge only a couple seconds later. He jogged back between two busses, disappearing from view shortly. He met the boy again, there was another brief conversation, an exchange and the deal was done.

"Looks like it," Brenda mumbled.

Elliott, who seemed to shrink into himself to hide his tall frame somewhat, huddled closer to her as they approached – they almost had him now and they could all feel the anticipation growing with each step.

The young man was talking to another boy next. Brenda watched them, let her eyes dart about the crowd just to make sure there were no surprises. "To the left, Sergeant, cut off his escape route."

Elliott snuck to the left, into the crowd of teenagers where he stood out like a sore thumb.

As Brenda looked back, the boy was staring right at her. She shook her head but he had already stared too long and before she could say anything, yell anything, they heard a car honk, momentarily startling them all.

And there he went off running again.

Brenda searched for Elliott who was advancing on the man, almost plowing through the throng of people while Sanchez had set off as well, after the guy who realized rather quickly that he wouldn't make it to the car.

The blonde stared after them for a split second then turned and saw the tail of the old Lincoln.

_5MJR429_

Brenda repeated the plate in her head as she turned back and singled out the boy the man had just been talking to. "Hey, you!" By now the crowd had somewhat calmed down, yet there were excited whispers making the round. "LAPD," she flashed her badge. "What did he want from you?" She asked immediately and pulled the boy to the side by his sleeve.

"Uh," the boy glanced back, blanching. "Uh…uh, he, he, I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I guess he was, he was trying to sell drugs…"

Brenda glared down at the boy. "Have you seen him before?"

"I don't know, I mean, I don't think so…ma'am."

The blonde sighed and tried to catch a glimpse of Sanchez and Elliott but they were gone.

"Uh…can I go? 'Cause I'm gonna miss my bus." He hoisted his backpack further up and wiped at his brow, his sandy hair falling right back into his eyes.

"Alright," Brenda said, her mind already on other things. She scanned the crowd, once, twice then the busses. Her eyes darted from face to face until they landed upon a boy with messy hair who tried to appear as if he wasn't there. Brenda's eyes narrowed as she advanced on the bus first in row. The doors were already closed but that didn't keep her from knocking on the window and pressing her badge against it.

The driver, irritated at first, opened the door for her. Brenda entered the bus, her muscles tense in anticipation as her gaze swept from face to face. There he sat, the boy, trying to be nonchalant and melt into the backrest of his seat. The blonde lifted her eyebrow.

"Oh, man," the boy said and stood with a quivering lower lip. "My dad's gonna freak."

* * *

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights?" Sanchez pulled the young man by the elbow, his hands were cuffed in the back, and put him in the back of his Crown Vic.

Sergeant Elliott who was standing beside him merely raised his eyebrow with a smug grin on his face.

"Do you understand?"

The young man made a face, an angry one, his eyebrows drawn together, his nostrils flaring but he said nothing as they shut the door on him.

"Yes, Lieutenant Flynn. I need you to run a plate for me, please. It's Five, Mary, John, Robert, Four, Two, Niner. Should be a Lincoln. Thank you, Lieutenant."

She hung up, feeling smug herself yet tried not to show it. Next to their newest prime suspect sat the little marijuana smoking jock, crying quietly in rather expected bursts of self-pity. "Well," Brenda looked back and forth between Elliott and Sanchez then decided that leaving the Sergeant with the task of driving the two perpetrators back to the station might result in them disappearing and suddenly turning up again in FID custody. "Why don't you do the honors, Detective?"

Julio smirked. "My pleasure, Chief."

That was two down, Brenda thought as she watched them drive off. Two down and two more to go. A sudden sense of relief washed over her and the pressure she hadn't known she had felt this strongly, eased somewhat.

She cared about this a lot. It wasn't Raydor…or Mendoza, but the mere fact that they were cops – she just wanted to do right by them. Deep down however, there was anger and outrage bubbling within her and suddenly she remembered that day when she had stood in the hallway with Raydor, both of them in their uniforms, both proud to be wearing it, yet saddened by the fact that they were going to a funeral.

There could have been a funeral again this time around, there could have been Sergeant Elliott holding a speech about what a great mentor Raydor had been and how she had always told him to be on the right side of the law.

There could have been Marisol crying over Mikki. Would her parents have come?

But those were all things that didn't and wouldn't happen, at least not now and Brenda felt immensely grateful for it.

"So, what now?"

The blonde looked up at Elliott, brought out of her musings, and blinked. "Now we're goin' to find out who made all those phone calls, Sergeant."

"Aren't you going to at least interview him?"

The blonde rolled her eyes inwardly and hoisted her purse higher up on her shoulder. "No, I'm not."

"We have the car and the guns…and the guy in the hospital, Chief, I mean, I'm sure you can get him to talk-"

"That may be so, Sergeant," Brenda interrupted, "but I like knowin' the answers to the questions I'm goin' to ask before I set foot into an interview room."

"But," he glanced down the street at where the Crown Vic had disappeared from view. "But we should call Captain Raydor in, have her identify the suspect…"

"No, no," Brenda turned on her heel. "You know as well as I do that eyewitnesses are unreliable."

"But that's Captain Raydor we're talking about here."

"Sergeant," Brenda stopped suddenly and he almost ran into her. "As you can see, everythin's by the book here, there's no reason for you to behave like you are, so I suggest you drop the act because all your little charade is doin' is slowin' us down."

Elliott scoffed. "Charade?"

"We both know you're not as stupid as you're tryin' to pretend to be." Perhaps the words were a little harsh but Brenda had it with him. "Captain Raydor would eat you for breakfast if you were…" She mumbled more to herself before she stalked off in the direction of the school.

It took Sergeant Elliott all of five seconds before he followed, catching up with long strides and after that he didn't say anything for a good minute. As he held the door to the building open for her, lips pursed in an uncharacteristically petulant expression, Elliott seemed to have finally stewed enough. "So." He said and tugged on his jacket. "You're thinking the boyfriend or brother of Sue Marlowe?"

There it was, Brenda thought, the reason Raydor kept him around. "That's exactly what I'm thinkin' and I could've realized this sooner, if I hadn't been thinkin' about that woman so much," she mumbled angrily.

"What woman?"

Brenda glanced at him then at the stairs ahead of them. "No one," she said quickly, "this way." They climbed the stairs to the second floor, where administration should be, according to the little signs on the walls. The hallways were almost deserted now, a janitor walked past them, he had to be at least 200 years old, Brenda thought.

Door number one said Conference Room, door number two was the school's counselor, number three the vice-principal.

They marched on, past the teacher's lounge and then there it was, Principal A. Summers. Brenda knocked at once and swept into what looked like a reception area. She lifted her eyebrows, her gaze drifted and landed upon a woman sitting behind a desk, gathering papers.

The blonde held up her badge and stepped forward unceremoniously. "I'm Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson of the LAPD and this is Sergeant Elliot. We would like to speak-"

"That was fast!" The woman said, her voice deep and resonating. "We just reached Adele an hour ago."

Brenda blinked. "Adele?" She asked slowly.

"Sean Turner's mother?"

"Oh, right," she lied and trailed off vaguely in the hopes of getting more info out of the chatty secretary.

"I knew something was wrong, you know? Because it's just not like him to skip school."

The blonde schooled her expression to one of mild interest and nodded at Elliott. "S'cuse me, ma'am, I have to make a phone call." He left without much of a fuss to check up on the name.

"When have you last seen Sean?" Brenda asked quickly, diverting the secretary's attention away from Elliott.

"Oh, uh, that must've been a couple days ago. I don't usually get to see much of the kids…except of course if they get sent to Mrs. Summers but Sean just isn't one of those."

Brenda smiled pleasantly then dug into her purse. She fished for her glasses, manhandled them onto the bridge of her nose and pulled a photograph out of a file. "Was he 'one of those'?"

"Oh," the woman said, her tone changing the minute she laid eyes on the picture. "Victor Johnston, a real piece of work. Smart but misguided. He was in here at least once a week…"

"And what about his girlfriend?"

The secretary blinked. "His girlfriend?"

Big, fat lie, Brenda thought and smiled, feeling validated. "Sue Marlowe."

"Well." She said, her eyes darting about the room. "I never really got to see her much, she was a sweet girl…" The woman thought it over then said with conviction, "I think she got sick."

"And that's why she didn't finish school?"

"…I really can't say."

"It had somethin' to do with Victor Johnston, isn't that so?"

The woman started gathering papers, her chatty mood gone. "I can't talk about it, student records are confidential and you'll have to speak with Mrs. Summers about this." She pulled out a pen. "I can take a message if you like?"

"That won't be necessary."

"And besides, what does this have to do with Sean anyway? I thought you were here because you were looking for him?"

"Oh," Brenda said sweetly, "I think it's safe to say that we'll be telling Sean's mother very soon where exactly he's at." She put the picture back into her purse and took off her glasses. "Well, thank you so much for all your help, um?"

"Charlene."

"What a lovely name." Brenda adjusted her purse, smiled and turned on her heel. "Bye…"

The blonde dropped the smile as soon as she exited the room and found Sergeant Elliott hanging up the phone a little further down the hall.

"Chief," he said, "we have an address."

"Alright, Sergeant. Just let me call Detective Gabriel…" She trailed off while rummaging through her purse, getting lost in its vast disarray. A phone appeared right before her eyes; it was Elliott's who held it out to her with raised eyebrows. Brenda took it somewhat embarrassed, yet didn't show it and just started walking – she had somewhere important to be after all.

"Hello, Detective-"

"Chief?" Gabriel asked disbelieving on the other end of the line. "Is that you?"

"Uh, yes. Listen-"

"Actually, I was just about to call you," he went on, a bit of excitement creeping into his voice. "A woman just reported her son missing. Technically, he hasn't been gone long enough but since he's a minor-"

"Right," Brenda interrupted impatiently.

"The description fits our Sean Doe…uh, his name is…"

"Sean Turner."

Gabriel was silent for moment. "But-"

"Just…meet me at the address, why don't you?" Brenda walked past Elliott who held the door open for her, and into the sunlight. She squinted and shielded her eyes with her hand, trying to remember where she had parked her damn car.

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note: **So, I thought I'd be less lazy and reply to all the comments from now on, so here goes:

**KDTB**: I know what you mean when you say that plot is often kind of boring; I was rather afraid that I was boring people but tried to not give a damn :P It's great to know that you appreciate the plot too, thank you!

**rcf1989**: I'm the worst reviewer ever! I'm so bad, it's embarrassing. Your favorite fic from all the ones you read? Wow, that is some compliment, thank you...I kind of can't believe that :P

**LizzieV**: How I keep a complex plot like this together in my head? To be honest, I don't know. It's not really as bad though :P Anyway, thanks for the feedback, I always appreciate it.

**Cellen8**: Na ja, wäre ich Brenda, würde ich das Auto auch nicht mehr finden :P Ach, yay Ripley...aber weißt was mehr geschrieben werden müsste? Copycat MJ/Helen *hint hint* Versuche immer alle dafür zu begeistern, bis jetzt wenig erfolgreich...

**I-Love-Capn-Raydor**: Here's your update but there's very little sexy in it I'm afraid. However, there will be sexy very, very soon, promise...but remember, I'm a tease, so you might get even more frustrated with me after that :)

**MrsIpstenu**: Y'know, sometimes it sucks to be realistic; you always gotta tell yourself that, no, Raydor would not march in and bend Brenda over her desk. Oh, and I have seen Rizzoli & Isles :) I've been thinking of writing for that fandom but want to wait til next year for more episodes to get a better feel for the characters; besides, I have to finish this one first...and that dumb CSI one. Guh. But anyway, thank you for commenting, I appreciate it!

**Chapter Fifteen:**

Backdoor Flush

"Not a word," Brenda reminded him for the third time. "This is not the time to play games, Sergeant, not when we're this close."

Elliott rolled his eyes almost as condescendingly as only a woman can and followed the Chief up the steps to the house. "Not a word, I got it." He glanced at Gabriel who smirked; whether it was at him or the Chief's incessant reminding of the rules, Elliott didn't know.

"We have to tread carefully here," Brenda said, coming to a halt in front of the door, repeating herself yet again. Obviously, Elliott thought, the woman didn't trust him the slightest bit. "We don't know how many-"

The door opened suddenly, startling them all, and in the doorway stood a lovely African American woman, the only flaw on her the worried frown on her face. She breathed out as she saw them and shook her head immediately. "I don't have time for this right now."

Brenda planted her hand firmly onto the door before it could close right before their noses. "Mrs. Turner? I'm Detective Johnson from the LAPD and these are Detective Gabriel and Sergeant Elliott. You called us to report your son missin', is that right?"

She just looked at them for a moment then yanked the door open wide. "Oh, my god, yes, please come in."

The house was nice, not too nice but quite homey. Mrs. Turner had, no doubt, made the very best of this place and Brenda suddenly began to wonder how a boy, who grew up here, in such a place, with such a mother, could become involved with guns, drugs and death.

But then she was yet again reminded of the fact that everyone was capable of despicable things, no matter where they came from. It made her wonder, for a split-second, if she was capable of sleeping with a woman behind her husband's back.

Probably not.

Except, maybe, if that woman was Captain Raydor.

Somehow, Brenda swallowed at that, adding her to the mix changed everything.

"When have you last seen your son, Mrs. Turner?" Brenda heard herself say on auto-pilot.

The woman closed the door, her movements jerky and nervous. "Yesterday when I dropped him off at Daniel's but-"

"Daniel?"

"Daniel Marlowe."

Brenda avoided to even glance at either of the two men flanking her as to not give away anything and Gabriel immediately got the clue and took notes, quick on the uptake as he was after years of working for the Chief.

"They, they, they were supposed to work on a history project together and, uh, Sean asked me if he could spend the night at Daniel's even though it was a school night but he, he, he never asks and I didn't wanna be the controlling mother, you know?" Mrs. Turner took a shuddering breath as tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks. "Trent had no idea…Daniel's father. And now I feel like an idiot for not calling and checking up on things."

"What did Daniel say?" Brenda asked casually but not too casually.

"Well," Mrs. Turner sniffed and wiped at her nose with a used tissue, her whole attitude changing at the inquiry. "He said he had no idea either but that kid isn't exactly known for his honesty. I mean, I'm not a fan of him but I rather have Sean hang out with him than with the neighbor kid…or worse, his cousin."

The blonde followed her line of sight until her eyes landed upon a framed picture on the wall; it was of Sean and the young man they had taken into custody just two hours ago. Brenda blinked, very little surprised and heard Gabriel ask, "What's his name, ma'am? Maybe we should talk to him…"

Very good.

"Jeremy…Turner. He's my husband's sister's son but I've been calling him over and over already, it always goes straight to voicemail." She scoffed suddenly, sniffling a bit and crossed her arms. "If he has something to do with this, so help me god…"

"What makes you think he could have anything to do with this?" Elliott asked which, Brenda thought, was a good question, considering she liked to know as much about a person before she interviewed them.

"Well, he's gotten himself involved with gangs but Sean knows to stay away from them, it's why I sent him to St. Mary's in the first place, to get him out of here." Mrs. Turner cried suddenly and wiped at her eyes. "He's never run away, Detective, not once and I know that he didn't this time either. Something happened to my little boy and I just wanna find him before-"

The door opened suddenly a man barged in. "What's going on, Adele?"

Mrs. Turner sighed with relief and flung herself into his arms. "Um, Jackson, these are Detectives, from the police…I forgot…"

"Detective Johnson," Brenda said and smiled helpfully while shaking his hand. "Detective Gabriel and Sergeant Elliott. Sir," she went straight ahead just to prevent him from asking any questions first. "When have you last seen your son?"

"Yesterday morning. Listen, shouldn't you be out there looking for him?"

"I assure you, Sir, we've been looking for a way to get Sean back to you, now, do you know this man?" She glanced at Elliott who pulled a photograph out of his jacket and held it out to them.

"No," Mr. Turner said immediately after his eyes had fallen onto Victor Johnston's face. "I've never seen him. Does he have anything to do with all this?"

"Oh, my god!" Adele cried.

"Do you know him, ma'am?"

She took a breath and shook her head. "No, no, it's just…did he do something to Sean?"

"No," Brenda responded curtly. "I'm afraid this young man has been shot to death last night-"

"We heard something on the news," Jackson said matter-of-factly, "but what does that have to do with Sean?"

Brenda cleared her throat, took a deep breath and put on her stern expression. "I'm afraid, Sean and two males entered the store last night where this young man was workin' and shot him to death-"

"What are you talking about?" Jackson went on.

"They then opened fire on two police officers, one of whom was severely wounded. Sean was hit in the leg once, sustaining a flesh wound and he's at the hospital right now, doin' just fine."

Adele cried, shaking her head while Jackson's nostrils flared in anger. "You must be mistaken, okay? Sean would never do such a thing, he doesn't touch guns and he wouldn't shoot anybody! He's a good kid!"

"We have the gun which he used to shoot at the officers-"

"But that can't be!"

"-and his fingerprints are all over the weapon."

Jackson was about to retort, his finger raised and pointed right at her, when Adele stepped in, a scathing look on her face as she spit out, "Where is my son?"

* * *

Brenda slumped into the passenger seat while Elliott glanced at her from his position behind the wheel.

"Now that, Sergeant, was a bust."

He looked back at the Turner house and just turned the key in the ignition. Gabriel drove past them, gesturing at them to hurry up because, after all, they had somewhere to be.

The blonde glanced at Elliott as he pulled away from the curb and wondered what it would be like to work with Raydor on a daily basis. Brenda kind of knew the answer to that, yet felt embarrassed to think of the pedantic Captain as anything other than her polar opposite.

They were nothing alike.

Or maybe their attraction stemmed from a narcissistic kind of place, the root of it their similarity.

She wouldn't have an affair with the woman.

But once wasn't an affair.

Just like killing one person didn't automatically make you a serial killer; you had to be a repeat offender, so, in theory Brenda could very well go and sleep with Raydor then make sure afterwards that it remained a one-night-stand.

That sounded way better than affair…something it wouldn't be, if they did it just once.

Brenda pressed her lips together and glanced at Elliott again. "What?" He asked out of the blue.

The blonde blinked and stared out of the window. "What is it like to work…with…you know..?" How embarrassing, she thought and clamped her mouth shut.

"It's…" Elliott looked at her, grimacing slightly. "It's…pretty good. She's…great at what she does."

If she really wanted to she could kiss the woman as much as she liked, she could touch her, _everywhere_, and know…_know_ what Raydor was really like when no one was watching.

"I was pretty miffed that you didn't get to be Chief…"

And there it was yet again.

"I didn't get why Captain Raydor would want you for the job, no offense, but now I'm starting to see why…great minds think alike and all…"

Brenda's eyes narrowed at that, the sentence hung in the air.

What if they had sex? Just sex. Would that be real cheating?

Or rather, would she suffer from a guiltier conscience if she had actual feelings for the woman?

The answer was yes, Brenda nodded to herself.

Just sex was only half as bad and she would probably feel a whole lot less guilty if she thought of it that way and that way only.

Staring at her own reflection in the window, the reflection that nodded slowly back at her, Brenda decided to not make any decisions just yet. With Raydor involved, who Brenda had thought of as rather predictable up until that moment, nothing seemed to be a sure thing all of a sudden; not the stability of her marriage, not her morals and not even her sexuality but that was a matter Brenda gave very little thought to.

She lived in the here and now, and at that particular point in time, Brenda felt sexually attracted to one Sharon Raydor.

Just that 'sexually attracted' didn't even come close to describing how she felt.

She was head over heels in lust with the woman, mind, body, and soul.

Brenda startled at that and swallowed heavily. All this time and it had never actually gotten any better. All these hours thinking it through over and over, all the countless half-truths she had passed off as honest answers to all of Fritz's questions, all those little moments where Brenda had told herself that it wasn't so, that it didn't matter much.

It did matter. All of it. Even the fact that she gave her sexuality very little thought or that people pitied her for not getting the new job or that Fritz wanted to have at least four dinners a week together or that her father had called to brag proudly about Charlene, his little girl, and what great improvements she had made.

It wouldn't get better, she wouldn't one day wake up and not want Raydor, even if she moved away, back to Atlanta and never saw the woman again, she would always regret not having acted upon her attraction.

Where did that leave her then?

Between a rock and a hard place?

No, not really, Brenda decided, as long as she avoided thinking about it too much.

* * *

Provenza wore his fishing hat as he stood leaning against his car, blinking indifferently at the sun. Flynn stood next to him, holding a file folder while glancing at the house across the street, boringly chewing on a toothpick.

Elliott parked right behind Gabriel, who had also just arrived and was talking to Flynn when Brenda exited her car.

It was hers, that had just occurred to her five minutes ago, and Elliott was driving it for her.

Somehow, not even noticing something as glaring such as that, told Brenda exactly how awfully preoccupied she was.

"Gentlemen…"

Flynn immediately opened the folder he had tucked under his arm and relayed evenly, "Daniel Marlowe, 16, no priors, arrested twice but all charges were dropped. His father is a lawyer, so good luck talking to the kid. Sister dropped out of school, reasons unknown…" He unclipped the picture from the file and held it out.

Brenda's jaw dropped. "Oh, that little…" She marched past them all, shaking her head furiously while stomping right across the lawn towards the front door.

"What?" Flynn asked mildly.

"Hey!" Gabriel said suddenly and snatched the picture out of his hand to show it to Elliott. "That's the kid Jeremy Turner talked to by the busses right before he took off!"

Elliott's black eyebrows climbed up on his forehead. "No way!" He stared down, blinked then set after the Chief who was already ringing the doorbell which, he thought, was quite irresponsible. He had just arrived, the rest of the men a step behind him, when the door opened and a woman, perhaps in her early thirties, looked at them with wide eyes.

"Yes?"

"LAPD," Brenda said, her fuse rather short, and flashed her badge. "And who might you be?"

The woman narrowed her eyes, glanced at the men and shook her head in an irritated manner. "Carolina," she answered with a mild accent which appeared to be all she was going to say.

"Well, Carolina, we're here for Mr. Marlowe. Is he home?"

"No, he's not. Maybe you should come back later."

"Um," Brenda held up her finger. "What about his son, Daniel? Is he around?"

Carolina scoffed, irritated. "He's doing his homework."

There was a faint noise inside the house, Brenda picked it up immediately and spotted a young woman on the stairs behind Carolina, looking at them uncertainly, hugging her stomach.

Carolina threw one look over her shoulder and closed the door a little. "I'm sorry, you have to come back later."

And before Brenda knew what was going on, she had the door slammed in her face.

Wonderful, she thought to herself and breathed out noisily. She should have come with a search warrant.

"What the hell?"

Brenda startled at the unexpected voice, Gabriel's, and realized that the garage door was opening. They all stared at the white, wooden, immaculately painted door as it opened further and further. Flynn was the first to react; he took one big step after another, the others trailing behind him as, suddenly, something blurry, something fast, shot right past him.

"Oh, that, that, that…" The blonde balled her hands into fists as Daniel Marlowe rode off on his bike. "Get him!" She yelled unnecessarily, seeing as Gabriel and Elliott had already set off after him.

Provenza glared at their retreating backs, tugging on Flynn's jacket. "Car," he said and started trudging towards it as if he had all the time in the world. Brenda followed, raising an eyebrow at Flynn.

It was barely thirty seconds later that the three of them sped past Gabriel and then past Elliott. Daniel Marlowe had already gained a rather healthy lead on the two men but even he couldn't ride faster than a car.

To his credit, he did try though.

"Hey!" Provenza yelled and rolled down the window on the passenger side. "Hey!"

"Go slower, Lieutenant!" Brenda advised Flynn and leaned over the armrest into the front of the car, holding onto Provenza for leverage. "Slower!"

"I'm trying!"

"Hey! Stop it!" By then Provenza had his upper body leaned out of the window, wildly grasping but never getting a hold of anything which was perhaps for the better. "You can't ride that bike forever but we can follow you until we run out of gas and that's not gonna happen for another thirty miles!"

Brenda clawed at his jacket. "Lieutenant! Come back inside right this instance!"

"Get off the damn bike!"

"Maybe I should accidentally on purpose swerve to the right," Flynn suggested.

"Don't you dare do any such thing, Lieutenant!"

Provenza went on. "Yes, yes, just look over your shoulder because that's where we're going to be!"

Then Provenza's hat flew away.

"Now look what you did!" He yelled, pointing a finger at the boy. "That was a gift!"

This whole thing, Brenda realized, was a disaster.

But just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, or more embarrassing, the boy suddenly slowed down.

"Finally," Provenza mumbled under his breath.

And then Daniel Marlowe took off on foot.

"Oh, for heaven's sakes…" Brenda sighed and glanced expectantly at Flynn who adopted a rather put off expression.

"I hate when that happens," he mumbled and got out of the car to go after the boy. Daniel Marlowe jumped a fence while Flynn climbed it with little difficulty. Brenda watched with her hands on her hips, taking one deep breath after another.

For a moment she was immensely grateful that Raydor wasn't there to see all this. That Mendoza had no idea that she had to depend on a bunch of bumbling amateurs to bring her a little justice but then Brenda thought that she usually wasn't much concerned about the execution of things but rather the end-results.

Brenda's nostrils flared.

And they would get that little twerp and haul his ass downtown.

Tires screeched and Brenda's silver Crown Vic came to a halt right beside Flynn's vehicle. Apparently Elliott and Gabriel had done the wise thing and had run back to get it. "This way, gentlemen," Brenda pointed at the fence with her thumb and casually leaned against the car, waiting for the inevitable.

Gabriel set off but Elliott took an extra moment to glare at Provenza who had just gotten out of the car in his usual placid fashion.

"He doesn't run," Brenda drawled and watched as Provenza walked past her and somewhat hurriedly down the street. "Where're you goin'?"

"To get my hat," the Lieutenant answered grumpily and went along.

Brenda slumped back against the car and crossed her arms in front of her chest; she exhaled noisily, her eyes scanning the neighborhood. It was rather quiet, surprisingly, and there was an old lady looking out of a window, observing the goings-on. Brenda stared back at her for a moment then her eyes landed upon the white fence before her, separating one property from another.

As she stared, her mind started to turn blank.

She should be thinking about the case, really, but Raydor just wouldn't let her.

What in the world had she gotten herself into? And she hadn't even done anything yet.

Much.

She hadn't done much, she corrected herself.

But, if she did do much, now that she was thinking about it, she would do a whole lot of things. Brenda wanted to kiss the woman, tear her clothes off, hold her in her arms as if she actually belonged to her and have torturously slow, overwhelmingly intense and passionate sex with the woman.

The blonde swallowed; she wanted to lick, kiss, nip, bite and lavish every inch of her. Make her breathe harshly, uncontrollably and then hear velvety moans escape her lips; Brenda could almost imagine how that would sound like, what Raydor would look like undone. Her hair in disarray, her eyes half-lidded, her lips parted. Brenda was almost certain that Raydor wouldn't be one for modesty or too uptight to tell her exactly what she wanted.

_Yes, like that. Oh, yes, right there!_

Oh, yes, Brenda thought, Raydor would be exactly like that yet the one thing her mind could barely comprehend was the complete and utter satisfaction that one little encounter could possibly bring her. Brenda imagined it as something she had never felt before, something foreign, something so good that it had to be better than chocolate.

"Who does he think he is?"

Brenda snapped out of her thoughts.

"Speedy Gonzalez?" Flynn panted and pointed at Elliott who grinned broadly while escorting Daniel Marlowe to the car.

A blush spread over her features, tinting her cheeks a nice pink; it wasn't exactly the nature of her thoughts nor the fact that, as a married woman, she should perhaps not contemplate the matter in such colorful detail, but rather that she had thought of Raydor in that way plainly visible for everyone and not in the privacy of her own home or office…or car.

It sounded silly but Brenda couldn't help but wonder what the woman herself would say if she knew.

What anyone would say…

* * *

Her hand hovered.

It gently touched the soft material of her cashmere cardigan. Her fingertips tingled at the texture.

Brenda swallowed and blinked down at her feel-good cardigan that was still draped over the back of a visitors' chair. Hours ago it had hugged Captain Raydor's body, had soaked up her scent and Brenda wanted to bring the cardigan to her nose and inhale every molecule.

"Chief?"

The blonde's hand snapped back as if burned and she focused her wide eyes on Lieutenant Tao who was standing tentatively in the doorway.

"Yes, Lieutenant," Brenda said with a somewhat shaky voice. She decided in that instance that it would be better to leave the proximity of the garment even though it was ridiculous to flee from an article of clothing.

"The plates…"

"Plates?" She asked as she swept past him into the murder room.

"The one you got off the old Lincoln? Turns out the car belonged to a Meredith James Rowe. She died three months ago, so whoever was driving it, probably stole it."

"No relatives?"

"None."

Brenda sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. "Did the fingerprint come back yet?"

"Oh, yes, Chief!" Tao lunged toward his desk and held up a file folder. "Marcus M. Randall aka Speed, 21 years old. One prior for possession, assault…and for shoplifting."

Sanchez emerged from behind his desk, nodding. "Wanna-be gangster, joined the C-53s when he was 15 but he hasn't since made a name for himself."

"And do we know how to find this Speed?"

Tao glanced at Sanchez which meant bad news. "We were at his residence but he wasn't there and his mother-"

"If you can call her that," Sanchez interjected.

"His mother said that she had no idea where he was and that he hadn't been home in over two days. We have his residence under surveillance but nothing yet."

"Great," Brenda mumbled, suddenly in a particularly bad mood.

"What about siblings, girlfriends, known associates?" Elliott asked.

"Well, Sergeant, if we go on knockin' on every door we may end up never findin' him. So, let's just keep on lookin' for him, discreetly, Lieutenant, is that clear?"

Tao nodded. "Of course, Chief. Everybody's keeping their eyes open for him, we also have additional units patrolling C-53 territory, so we may get lucky."

"Good. But make sure they don't put him anywhere near Daniel or Jeremy. I don't want them knowing of each other yet."

Provenza lifted his finger. "Uh, well, that may be a little difficult, Chief because we have Jeremy with us and Daniel with Robbery/Homicide and I don't think Narcotics is going to help us out here." He tilted his head and lifted an eyebrow. "Remember that one time when you-"

"Yes, yes, Lieutenant," Brenda waved him off then glanced at Elliott. "You could take him if they picked him up, couldn't you?"

"Well, sure but I'd have to stay all night…because Captain Raydor-"

"Captain Raydor is not here," Brenda interrupted, "and if she shows up, you better get her out of the building and home, even if you drive her there yourself."

"Okay, um, understood. So," Elliott glanced about the room. "Are you going to interview any of them?"

"No," the blonde said evenly, "I won't. But I will tomorrow."

"But what if we don't catch that Speed guy 'til then?"

Brenda needn't contemplate the question because after a whole day filled with thoughts of Raydor, her mind finally seemed to clear. "That don't matter, Sergeant." She smiled. "Tomorrow somebody's gonna confess and I won't be needin' Mr. Speed for that," she closed Marcus M. Randall's file and smirked a little. "Y'all go on home now…"

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**I-Love-Capn-Raydor: **Kill you? Noooo. Why would I wanna do that? Then there would be no more Synchronicity and that would suck. So, here's some one on one time, more of that soon ;)

**LizzieV:** You're confusing my story with actual show? That's a pretty great compliment actually. The new Raydor episodes are so geniusly written, sub-texty as hell and I'm so looking forward to 'rewriting' those. And yeah, they are so awkward but that's quite adorable me thinks.

**MirandaMinerva:** To be honest, I get lost in the case too but it's coming to an end now which, I think, my brain rather likes. Now it's on to plotless obsessions :)

**Kiva4ever:** Thanks :) I can always keep you guessing? Well, that's good, don't wanna be too obvious. So, I know it's pretty stressful with the holidays and all but when are you going to post something again? I'm having withdrawals.

**Jits:** It's always nice to see new people reading this fic, so thank you for letting me know.

**oddvariety:** More and more people seem to discover the joys of Sharon Raydor, thankfully, right? Awesome character, funny as hell and quite hot all in one, couldn't be better. Thank you for the nice review and I really hope you like the new chapter as well.

**KDTB:** Oh look! A gift for new years. How about that? Heh. And the hotness, well, it's about to commence, promise.

Anyway, thanks to all of you for commenting, I really appreciate that you take the time to do it. What else is there? Ah, right, Happy New Year!

**Chapter Sixteen:**

Four Of A Kind

"We have Jeremy Turner's fingerprints on the TEC-9. We have Sean Turner who actually held the gun in his hand when he was arrested and we have that Speed guy's fingerprint on the mirror but there's nothing to connect Daniel Marlowe to the .38 used to kill Victor Johnston?" Elliott asked a tad too loudly which was what got Brenda's attention.

The Sergeant had actually spent the whole night at his desk, waiting for that one phone call but none had come, they hadn't found Marcus Randall yet.

"That killed Victor Johnston and wounded Detective Mikaela Mendoza," Tao finished, just having come in. "Ballistics' finally managed to match it to the Taurus."

"Well," Brenda said, coming out of her office, "that's convenient," she mumbled and took the report to leaf through it.

"Looks like Sean's all lawyered up and Daniel Marlowe? His father wants him released yesterday…"

Sanchez nodded at Elliott's rather obvious statement that no one had really dared say out loud yet.

"Sean didn't hurt anyone, right? Maybe he's open for a deal…"

"No deals," Brenda said immediately, "Sean Turner stood by as his little buddy shot Victor Johnston and then he went ahead and shot at cops, he's as guilty as the rest…just like that Speed guy. As soon as we get him in here, somebody explain to him the term transferred intent."

Gabriel lifted his eyebrows, casting a questioning glance at Provenza who usually knew what was up with the Chief even when she herself wasn't sure yet but Provenza shrugged helplessly and shook his head.

"Oooh," Brenda whined suddenly, "Chief Delk called already-"

"Yeah, well, that's what Captain Raydor…" Elliott trailed off as he received angry glares from everyone except Chief Johnson who seemed to haven't heard a thing seeing as she was rather involved with herself and not with the people around her at the moment.

"And now I have to go to this silly meetin' with Chief Pope. Why can't anyone ever wait 'til I'm done before askin' all these questions?" Brenda stomped back into her office and reached for her cardigan. Situations like these required the comfort of it, yet Brenda was very reluctant to put it on. The first time she had walked past it, the scent had almost knocked her off her feet and even though it had dispersed somewhat, the thought of having the woman on her skin terrified Brenda.

It terrified her while it also aroused her more than she cared to admit and if she could carry Raydor around with her all day in the form of her favorite cardigan, Brenda had somewhat of an inkling that it would very quickly become a habit-forming indulgence and then she would be able to quit Raydor just as easily as she could quit chocolate.

Brenda dropped the cardigan as if burned by it and shook her head then she flushed and cast an embarrassed glance outside; no one had noticed but still, she was being rather silly.

Then she glanced at her watch; Chief Delk wanted her to hurry this along a little, a request Brenda would have usually reacted rather badly to but was obligated to at least give it a try now that she was getting calls from the boss in person.

"Lieutenant Provenza?" She said as she left her office and walked past Sergeant Elliott who was on the phone and merely glanced at her a little surprised; if Brenda had cared more, she would have investigated but at that moment, she just wanted to get it all over with. "Can you tell Commander Taylor to bring Jeremy Turner up from holding, please?"

Provenza gave her a nod while already picking up the phone.

Brenda tugged on her cashmere bolero sweater which she had only worn because she had known, subconsciously, that she wouldn't be able to wear the cashmere cardigan. Brenda swept out of the murder room, blushing as the thought flitted through her mind, and marched toward Will's office.

This shouldn't take long, she thought as Will's assistant opened the door for her, she just had to make it clear that there was no time for meetings when she could very well be interviewing a suspect.

"Have you found him yet?" Will asked immediately, standing behind his desk as if he had been waiting for her in that very position.

Brenda cleared her throat. "Who?"

"That, that…Speed kid." He said with a wave of his hand.

"First, he's not a kid and second, his name is Marcus Randall."

"Ah," Will said, slumping down in his chair. "So, have you found him yet?"

"Is that the reason for-"

"No, you haven't, or so says the Chief of Police who called me half an hour ago and who is now undoubtedly aware of the fact that I, your boss, am grossly uninformed."

Brenda blinked, once, then deposited her purse on a chair and put on her angry face. "It's not my fault we haven't found that Speed guy yet and it's also not my fault that you're uninformed." She breathed heavily as the stress was suddenly catching up with her. "And now I'm here, arguin' with you, when I could be out there, interviewin' a suspect," she finished with a faint, teary voice.

Will just looked at her with a frown. "Okay, you're right. Go interview your suspect but _I_ am going with you."

"What? Why?" She asked immediately.

"Because I'm your boss until Chief Delk decides to fire my uninformed ass."

"Oh, you don't know that," Brenda cooed.

"Oh, yes, I do. Now, interview, suspect."

Brenda picked her purse back up and swept out the door that Will held open for her. While they walked, the blonde tried to come up with an answer to the question he was surely going to ask any minute – what was the matter with her?

Brenda couldn't say without telling him all about Raydor and the kiss and the scent and the fantasies she had of the woman and that they were both naked in them. He was just about to open his mouth, Brenda knew it, when she caught a whiff of…

Of…

"What?"

They had stopped, Brenda had her lips pursed; she wasn't supposed to be here but of course she had to disobey a direct order and of course Elliott had to help her, the weasel. "Oh, that woman…"

"What woman?" Will asked as Brenda took off in a different direction.

The blonde rounded the corner and marched straight ahead and, in her fury, almost missed the culprits who were huddled around a table in a room with glass walls, which, perhaps, hadn't been the best of ideas to begin with.

She burst into the room, knowing her voice would be nasal and her drawl particularly southern when she would speak, but Brenda was too mad and too fed up with dealing with inconveniences like this one to actually care. "Captain Raydor, why are you here? You are s'posed to be at home, restin'. And you," She pointed at Elliott. "Did I not tell you to drive her home yourself if she showed up here?"

"He's one of my people, Chief, where did you think his loyalties lie?"

"I thought he would act in your best interest but-" The rest of the sentence would have to forever remain unsaid as Brenda, out of the corner of her eye, saw Commander Taylor escorting Jeremy Turner down the hall flanked by two police officers.

Brenda's eyes darted to Raydor whose gaze was fixed on the young man and then, to Brenda's horror, Raydor's lips parted and she looked as if she was about to say something but then she blinked and licked the corner of her mouth, forcing whatever had been on its way out back down.

At least the woman possessed, despite her irrational behavior lately, a last shred of her mind and didn't say anything as he walked by.

Once Jeremy was out of view there was silence for a long moment then Brenda said, "Sergeant, Cap'n Raydor and I need a minute."

"Sure, of course," he said hastily and practically bolted from the room.

"Okay," Raydor said as soon as the glass door closed behind him. "Coming here was probably a bad idea and I do apologize but I have been exonerated, I acted in self-defense and now I'd like to know how far along you are in your investigation because I wanna be sure that the men who tried to kill me aren't going to walk right past me in the streets, so-"

"And you say I have control issues," Brenda drawled and rolled her eyes; she knew she was getting petulant again and she knew she would lose this argument as well as a bit of self-respect if she continued on this path. "Look, Captain, we've made arrests, we have evidence and now I'm goin' to get a confession from that boy you just saw so we can tie the whole thing with a nice bow."

Raydor gave her an ironic laugh. "So, in other words, the sole outcome of this case depends on that kid's statement."

"No, it does not." Brenda felt the anger boiling again under her skin but strangely it ebbed away the longer she looked at the woman. She wasn't so bad, was she? "Cap'n," she said with a sigh and looked her in the eye with open honesty. "Just let me handle it…okay?"

Raydor stared back at her unflinchingly then her gaze changed; it didn't exactly soften but there was a noticeable shift. The woman nodded curtly, as if coming to a decision. "Okay."

Brenda smiled at her and opened the door. "After you, Captain."

"Thank you, Chief Johnson," Raydor replied as she walked past her and into the hallway.

"Should I get Sergeant Elliott, I'm sure he can drive you home."

"One, I'm perfectly capable of driving myself and two, I'm not going," the Captain said evenly. "I've seen him already, so what harm can it do?"

Brenda glared at her, mildly, yet couldn't help the smirk forming on her features. She pressed her lips together as she felt the dimples forming in her cheeks but it didn't matter much, Raydor knew. "Alright, then…" The blonde glanced at Raydor from beneath her eyelashes and saw the woman smirk as well.

For a moment Brenda felt a strange pull towards her that was so strong, it made her sway a bit. Their shoulders touched, their elbows too and Brenda was suddenly at ease. "You can watch but after this you're goin' home."

Raydor nodded.

"I mean it." Brenda emphasized and opened the door to the Media Room where Pope was waiting and Buzz was getting the cameras and the mics ready.

"Good luck, Chief." The Captain said as she entered, her velvety voice making Brenda's toes curl, her scent causing a momentary lapse.

"Um…" Brenda glanced at Will; better keep it together. "Thank you, Cap'n."

* * *

"Hold these," Brenda said and dumped a stack of files in Gabriel's arms. "And don't mess 'em up."

"Okay," he said slowly.

"And try to look serious-"

"I am serious."

"A little more stern."

"Um, Chief," they had almost arrived at the interview room where Commander Taylor was waiting when Gabriel reached out and stopped the tornado, namely Brenda, from bursting in there. "I usually don't say this to my superior officers but you have got to calm down."

The blonde's lip trembled and she tugged on the sleeves of her bolero sweater, she blinked and realized that she was indeed acting like a complete lunatic. "I'm, I've…it's been, I've been…" She also realized that she could hardly tell him all about Raydor and how she had thought of ruining her marriage with a silly affair and how much she wanted the woman, that she desired her like nothing else and could barely stand not having her.

"Stress," she said in the end and sighed. "I've been havin' a lot of stress lately." Maybe she should talk to somebody about this, just her luck that she couldn't talk to her best friend because he would make her sleep on the couch and then have them both go to a marriage counselor who would tell them that it was all Brenda's fault, her and her homosexual tendencies.

"I know, I mean, with the whole Chief thing…" Gabriel said lamely, suddenly embarrassed by his earlier outburst.

"Well, you hold onto those files and look grim, okay?"

"Got it, Chief," he responded, relieved.

They marched on, meeting Taylor who sported his most neutral expression. "Chief," he nodded and pointed over his shoulder, not missing a beat, "he still thinks he's here for some drug related offense and that we got nothing on him. I made sure nobody was talking…"

"Thank you, Commander."

"No problem, Chief. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to watch this little wanna-be cop killer go down."

Brenda bit her lip as Taylor stalked off in the direction of the Media Room; that was that, she thought and nodded at Gabriel who opened the door for her. As she stepped into the interrogation room, all of Brenda's concerns and insecurities fell away. She always felt like she could get away with being somebody else when she was in there and needn't be ashamed for lying.

"Hello, Mr. Turner," She said and took a seat across from him. Gabriel meanwhile put the stack of files down on the table next to her then stood in the corner. "I heard you're not of the talkative kind…" Brenda looked at him, tilted her head, assessing him. "But that's alright, Jeremy."

She looked at him again and saw that her scrutiny did make him feel somewhat insecure. "Detective Gabriel, if you could read him his rights again," she nodded at him then stared right back at Jeremy. "We wanna do everything by the book here."

Gabriel didn't move an inch as he repeated the Miranda-rights evenly and without much of an emotion. "Have you understood these rights?"

Jeremy glared at him then glanced at Brenda, frowning angrily, yet his mood shifted almost imperceptibly as the blonde raised her eyebrow at him.

Jeremy nodded, rolling his eyes.

"Do you want to waive your rights?"

"He wants to know if you wanna talk to us?" Brenda clarified with a helpful smile.

Turner sniffed and shook his head. "Nah…"

"Good," Brenda quipped and took the first file from the stack. "That means that I get to talk and you get to listen." She opened the file and presented to him, "Victor Johnston."

Jeremy shivered a little and looked away from the photo of the dead man. The blonde studied his features, saw exactly that he wasn't who he tried to pretend to be and put the file on the table. She took the next one without missing a beat, opened it, showing him a picture of Daniel Marlowe.

Then his cousin Sean.

And then the revolver Sean had used.

"This is what we know so far," she said slowly and took yet another file. "Victor Johnston and this woman here, a police officer, were shot with this gun." Brenda showed him the Taurus. "Now, we found two guns in the vehicle you stole and tried to burn out. Daniel Marlowe, whose father is a pretty successful lawyer, said that this one was yours." She pointed at the Taurus. "But, we're doin' everythin' by the book here, I told you, and we found your fingerprints on this gun instead."

Brenda opened another folder and showed him the TEC-9. Jeremy's nostrils flared at the sight and he looked away again. "As I said, Daniel's father's a pretty good lawyer and fingerprints don't mean nothin' him."

Jeremy was about to open his mouth, words of outrage burning to come out but Brenda directed a pointed look at him. "You're supposed to listen, Jeremy…"

There was a knock on the door, interrupting her at the right moment. The door opened and Tao leaned in, holding out yet another file. Brenda stood calmly and took it, not opening it, knowing what was in it as she placed it carefully next to Daniel Marlowe's and tapped it with her fingertip. "This is the identity of the driver of the getaway vehicle, the one thing Mr. Marlowe wasn't able to give us."

Brenda licked her lip, it was time to up the ante, she had to bluff and take a risk. "He just kept sayin' something about a Mr. Speed but what are we gonna do with that…" The blonde sighed inwardly as she saw no trace of sudden mistrust in Jeremy's eyes. "The reason why I'm tellin' you all this is because we all know Daniel Marlowe is a liar and that kids like him get away with things. Isn't that so, Detective Gabriel?"

He nodded grimly. "That's right, Chief. We see it all the time."

"And isn't it frustratin'?"

"It sure is."

Brenda stared at Jeremy who had his arms crossed and was slumped back in his chair, biting his lower lip.

"And that's why we're here, Jeremy, because we want you tellin' us the truth. We know what you did and we know what Daniel did, now the question is, which story is the jury goin' to hear?" She held up her hand. "That was a rhetorical question by the way – you haven't waived your rights, which means I can't even ask you anythin'. Not the littlest thing, Jeremy."

Now all she had to do was make an impressive attempt at an exit. Brenda gathered the files, one at a time, lifting her eyebrows pointedly yet not expectantly, inwardly shaking with a sudden fear that her instincts had been wrong, that she was ruining everything but then Jeremy reached out and held onto her left wrist.

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

Jeremy glanced at Gabriel who looked as stony-faced as before. "I tell you who drove the car, okay?"

"So you waive your rights?"

"Yeah," Jeremy nodded urgently.

"Well," Brenda said, "let's start with something simple then. Why don't you tell us which weapon you used?" Her heart hammered in her chest and so did everyone else's.

Then Jeremy pointed at the TEC-9.

They had him.

"And how do you suppose we prove that? You could've been the one with the Taurus and shot Victor Johnston. Your fingerprints could've gotten on the TEC-9 when you put them in the backseat of the car, I bet that's just what Daniel's father's goin' to say."

Jeremy pulled his sweater down a little, exposing the burn marks on his neck where his pulse was pounding visibly. "The fucked up shit jammed, okay? And I banged it against the register and then it just kinda went off and burned me."

Brenda contemplated his answer or rather feigned it and nodded at last. "We found some casings with DNA on them. We could compare it to yours." She glanced at Gabriel and smiled. "Well, this is good, you're bein' honest…let's keep on goin', shall we?" Brenda put her hand on the closed file without even glancing at it or away from Jeremy. "Now, if you tell me whose name is in this file, I know that I can trust you…"

"And what do I get, huh? What? I ain't telling you nothing without getting something back."

The blonde pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes and pulled the file right in front of her. "I can just open it and see for myself, I don't _need_ you tellin' me anything." She leaned forward in her seat, sending him a scathing look. "I'm giving you a chance here, Jeremy. Tell me the truth and I will make sure that it'll be taken into consideration."

"…consideration?" He said slowly. "Isn't there some deal or something?"

"I don't even know the whole story yet. Would you make a deal without knowing the whole story, Detective?"

"I sure wouldn't, Chief," Gabriel responded evenly.

"See?" Brenda prompted. "We'll talk deals later, for now, I just wanna know whose name is in that file."

Jeremy glanced away, his nostrils flaring again as he tried to come to a decision. It was all about decisions in that room, at least Brenda had often thought so – do I lie or do I stick with the truth? Ironically, Brenda had to make the exact same decisions whenever she was in an interview.

"Marcus."

"Marcus who?"

"Randall," Jeremy spat, angry at himself for betraying his friend.

Brenda just nodded slightly and opened the file, presenting him with a picture of Mr. Speed. "Here it says Marcus M. Randall…very good." She closed the file. "And where do you suppose we find this Marcus Randall?" She asked nonchalantly.

"Try his house?"

Brenda smiled evilly. "His house," she repeated as if making a mental note. "Why, who would've thought of that?" She glared. "Where else?"

Jeremy shook his head. "How the fuck should I know?"

"Okay, that's it," Brenda collected the files. "You lie me in the face and you're bein' incredibly rude. I don't have to put up with that! I was trying to help you even though I didn't have to!" She was about to stand, pausing her diatribe to actually give Jeremy a moment to speak before she swept out the door which he, to her relief, did.

"The old gas station!"

"Gas station?" Brenda asked slowly, not yet sitting down.

"Yeah, in our neighborhood…it went out of business and nobody's taken it over, it's just a dump and Marcus goes there sometimes when he's in trouble. He's got some kinda room in the basement, okay?"

Brenda stared at him, making him believe she was assessing him yet again, testing him then smiled, giving him relief and the knowledge that he had just passed her test. "Okay." She sat and nodded for good measure. "Now I need you to tell me what happened, in your own words…I know, this is the difficult part but we need to make sure that we have all the facts straight."

She cleared her throat and began the story Jeremy was going to finish for her. "Daniel's sister, Sue, she used to be Victor's…girlfriend," she said, knowing that she had it right, yet trying to make it look less so. "He's got motive but I wonder why you would go along and help off the guy just to do a kid like Daniel Marlowe a favor."

"I didn't wanna kill him," Jeremy said immediately. "I mean…I mean…"

"It's alright. Trust me, you can't make it any worse…"

He bit his lip again. "We were just supposed to scare him."

"Scare him?"

"Yeah. You know, wave a gun in his face and stuff."

She didn't buy it. "Again, why would you help a kid like Daniel Marlowe do any such thing? Doesn't that sound a little odd to you too, Detective?"

"Very odd, Chief."

"There you have it," Brenda said, "let's stick with the truth, why don't we?"

"It is the truth! I swear! I didn't know Daniel would just pop the guy, okay?" Jeremy threw his hands in the air. "We were just supposed to go there, make him shit his pants and go home."

"And why would you wanna scare him then? Why? What reason did you have to go there with a loaded weapon if not to shoot Victor? If you don't start tellin' me the truth soon, I'll walk out of here and we'll just go with Daniel's version of events, if that's what you want?"

"No! C'mon!" Jeremy scoffed and released a long breath. "Man. Okay….okay. Speed and I, we've been with the 53's for years but we never got any real deals, you know? So when Sean said something about this drug dealing asshole that he was gonna scare with his friend, I thought, okay, we go there, take over his business. Sounded like a good idea to me, right?"

"Right. A smart plan…"

"So, I got those old guns lying around from my Pop, so we took 'em. But when we got there, the store, you know, this Marlowe guy goes crazy!"

"Crazy?"

"Yeah, man, crazy! Some shit about his sister, whatever and then he just shoots the guy. Just like that."

Brenda bit her lip and leaned forward in her seat. "Just like that?"

"That's what I'm sayin'."

"And then what?"

"Then we left."

"No, you didn't." Brenda nodded towards his neck. "You emptied the register," she reminded him.

"Right. Well. I tried to shoot at the stupid camera but the gun jammed and then it went off and the cops came and then I just thought, well, fuck it, right?"

The blonde blinked. "Right." She hated swearing.

"So, we ran out and the cops was shooting at us and Sean, man, he was hit. I don't want anyone to think I just left him there, okay?"

"I know you didn't," Brenda said immediately. "You tried to go back for him, didn't you?"

"Yeah. But I couldn't. We got in the car and Speed drove off. We just dumped it where you found it. The Marlowe kid wiped it all down and then we just burned the whole thing."

Brenda nodded empathetically and took the last file that had rested by her elbow and opened it. "What about him?"

"Who's that?"

The blonde looked down at the picture with a remorseful gaze. "James Marino. You shot him."

"No, I didn't!" Jeremy pushed the file away and crossed his arms. "I didn't shoot nobody."

This was the truly difficult part – Brenda could either play her cards right and win or make the wrong move and lose everything. Thankfully she had had a plan for this since last night; after all, she was one of the most convincing liars in the country. "He was found here, in this alley." She pointed at a picture of James lying face down where they had found him, blood pooling underneath him.

"You couldn't have seen him."

"I told you!"

Brenda tilted her head. "James ran away from home, he walked down the street when you and your accomplices came out of the store. For some reason he caught your eye, you startled and shot him by mistake." She shrugged. "You just saw someone die and then the cops were shootin' at you! Could've happened to anyone in that situation."

Jeremy's lower lip trembled, the first truly honest emotion that flitted across his face.

"James crawled into the alley by himself. If he hadn't, you could've helped him or somebody could've helped him…it was all just a terrible mistake, wasn't it?" She paused, blinked and then said, "If you tell me it was an accident, I'll believe you, Jeremy. So…was it an accident…or did you shoot him on purpose?"

"I didn't!" Jeremy swallowed. "I didn't even know I hit him!"

"So it was an accident?"

"I didn't mean to shoot him, okay? I thought he'd run away or something…damn…"

Brenda smiled reassuringly. "S'alright. We know now that you didn't do it on purpose, that's the important part." She closed James's file. "Now I need you to write everything down that happened. Everything, okay? And we're going to go deal with Daniel Marlowe, he can't hide behind his lies anymore, now can he?"

Jeremy nodded slowly as he started to slowly comprehend what had just transpired.

"Alright. I'll see you in a bit…" She stood and took her files while Gabriel stayed behind. As Brenda stepped out into the hallway and the door closed behind her, she breathed a sigh of relief. She always felt somewhat elevated when she came out of a successful interview.

Brenda shifted the files under her left arm and started looking for her keycard; it wasn't around her neck, it couldn't be in her pockets because she was wearing a dress, ergo, it was in her purse, the one she had left on Provenza's desk in the murder room.

"If I may?"

Brenda startled visibly at the voice coming from the other side of the door. "Cap'n," she whispered before she could help it.

The woman held the door wide open for her. "There you go…"

Brenda swallowed heavily as she walked past the woman who did the unthinkable and put a hand on her back; the blonde's knees almost buckled at the touch.

She was losing it, quite obviously.

"You did it, Chief," Raydor said as they walked side by side into the murder room.

"Well…almost."

Raydor smirked and crossed her arms, tilting her head from side to side as she spoke. "I have to say, you wrapped my gift quite beautifully but where's the bow you promised?"

Brenda smirked also. "Who says I'm done?" She walked backwards and crossed her arms as well as she leaned against Provenza's desk. "Good things come to those who wait, Cap'n," she drawled with a smile that felt entirely too honest.

Raydor just narrowed her eyes almost imperceptibly, a throaty yet quiet laugh escaping her lips as she filed the comment away; she didn't exactly know what to make of it but neither did Brenda – she realized in that same instance what had just left her mouth and that she had a faint blush coloring her cheeks, and that she stood so that her chest was discreetly on display and her other curves especially pronounced.

She was flirting.

Brenda cleared her throat immediately, feeling the need to change the subject but was interrupted by her team filing out of the Media Room. Sergeant Elliott, who had been in the room the entire time, yet had remained unnoticed while on the phone, spoke up. "Chief Johnson?"

"Yes?" Brenda pulled on her bolero sweater self-consciously.

"We've got officers checking out the old gas station, see if they can round up that Speed guy."

Raydor smirked, pleased with her quick and truly efficient subordinate.

"And I've got some bad news: Trent Marlowe is requesting a meeting with you…"

"Great," Brenda mumbled under her breath and stared at the white board, turning her back to Raydor. She contemplated the situation and made a quick decision. "Have Daniel Marlowe brought up here, please…"

Elliott nodded slowly. "Consider it done, Chief," he responded and picked up the phone again.

Brenda, feeling sufficiently composed, turned around to face her squad and Raydor. "Alright, everyone…I'm goin' to have a little chat with the Marlowe's, Lieutenant Provenza, tell Buzz to make Interview Room 2 ready, thank you." This time she did pick up her purse. "Captain…" She said suggestively, lifting her eyebrows. "You did promise to go home…"

"Right," Raydor said with a smirk. "I did promise that, however-"

"No, no, no, no-"

"However," Raydor interrupted a bit louder this time. "I would very much like to go to the hospital and tell Detective Mendoza the good news…if that's agreeable with you, Chief Johnson," she finished sarcastically.

"Well, that's quite…alright," Brenda responded lamely, embarrassed by her less than stellar comeback.

* * *

"How nice of you to bring my son up from holding," Trent Marlowe said contritely. "Now you just have to take off the cuffs and we'll be on our way."

"I don't think that's possible, Mr. Marlowe." Brenda let the door fall shut behind her as she entered the room fully and looked down at Daniel.

"My client won't be talking to you any time soon, Chief Johnson but now I'd like to know what concrete evidence you have because from what I saw, your case against him is pretty much nonexistent."

The blonde smiled pleasantly and looked down at Daniel again who gave her his meanest glare which didn't exactly impress her. "Jeremy Turner just rolled all over you."

"Do not talk to my client."

"We don't need your son when we already have a written statement by his accomplice indicatin' him as the shooter, as the man who killed Victor Johnston."

Marlowe rolled his eyes. "Oh please, I'll have that gang banger's statement for breakfast…no one's gonna believe him when I'm through with him."

"Well, you might wanna watch how much you bite off, Mr. Marlowe because I heard some things that may be difficult to swallow." Brenda turned without missing a beat and walked out on him. "Officer," she said to the one positioned by the door, "Please, bring Daniel Marlowe back to central booking."

She was just about to leave when something or rather someone caught her eye. At first Brenda couldn't place her then she realized that the blonde girl hugging her own stomach was the same she had seen yesterday at the Marlowe house.

Brenda blinked and perhaps she had been staring too long because the girl looked up and right at her. It was then that Brenda saw it in her eyes, the secret.

The girl hesitated then walked towards her, shyly biting her lip.

"You're Chief Johnson, right?"

Brenda smiled mildly. "Yes…and you are?"

"Sue Marlowe…I'm, I'm Danny's, Daniel's sister."

"Right," Brenda said gently, "I saw you at the house yesterday."

"Yes, that's right…um…" She tapped her foot nervously then her gaze changed. "I want…I have something to talk to you about."

The blonde hid her surprise and schooled her features, she was just about to offer the girl some water in the break room when the door to the interview room opened and Daniel, escorted by the officer, and his father stepped out. Daniel's eyes widened as they fell on his sister almost immediately. "Sue, what are you doing?"

Trent Marlowe's eyes darted towards them as well, panic flashing in them. "Don't say anything, I'll take care of it." He changed directions and stormed towards them. "Sue, come on, we're going home."

The girl shrank in his presence yet she stayed defiant. "No…" She said. "I wanna talk to Chief Johnson."

Trent came to a halt in front of them, his hands on his hips. "I don't think so," he said evenly and grabbed her arm. "Come on."

"Ow!" Sue tried to free herself rather unsuccessfully which was when Brenda ceased the moment and stepped in.

"Let go of her arm right this instance or I will have you arrested for assault!"

"You can't do that," Trent spat, yet eased his grip, "Let's go, Sue. No one's going to talk to anyone today."

"But I will!"

"You're only going to make things worse for your brother, is that what you want?"

The girl or rather young woman, balled her hands into angry, little fists that shook with a barely controlled rage that few would have suspected in the girl. "You're the one who's making everything worse for him!"

"That's not true, okay? Let's go."

"No!" Tears streamed down Sue's face. "I'm not going! I can do whatever I want now!"

Brenda put an arm around her shoulders and gently, subtly, led them towards the vacated interview room.

"Hey! Chief Johnson! You can't talk to her!"

The blonde scoffed. "Well, I don't think that's up to you, Mr. Marlowe."

"Sue!"

They were in; Brenda bit her lip and looked at the camera for a split-second.

"You're going to ruin everything!"

The girl's chin quivered and then it just burst out of her. "Everything's ruined already, dad! Victor ruined me but you ruined Daniel and you know it!"

"Don't be ridiculous-"

"Ridiculous?" Sue shook with anger. "Victor raped me!" She cried at that, the tears streaming hotly down her face. "And you didn't do anything! Why didn't you do anything?"

Trent Marlowe looked at Brenda, a trace of shame in his eyes yet she knew that he refused to feel the guilt, at least for now. "Sue. Listen to me, okay? You can't say another word about this-"

"That's what we all have been doing and look what happened to Daniel. This is your fault!"

"It is not my fault!" Trent yelled unexpectedly and advanced on his daughter again. "C'mon…"

"No!" Sue reached out and grasped Brenda's hand. "Victor raped me and my father wouldn't let me go to the police-"

"That's not what happened," he interrupted, wanting to explain himself. "You know how rape trials go," he said to Brenda then glanced back at Sue. "The victims go through horrible things, they get discredited and that's exactly what that…what Victor's lawyer would have done because you were his girlfriend, Sue, and he would've made you out to be a cheap whore!"

"Mr. Trent!" Brenda intervened. "That's no way to talk to your daughter."

"Don't tell me how to talk to my kid, Chief Johnson. You've gone far enough with this."

"Well, at least we now have a motive…the one thing that's been missin' in this whole mess."

Marlowe glanced at his daughter who looked little remorseful. "You can't use this."

Brenda lifted a defiant eyebrow. "I can and I will."

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** Ugh, I have a nasty...nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty flu, plus a somewhat messed up back from martial arts (I doubt it was the Tai chi though) and that has never happened to me before in like 17 years, omg. I also keep hearing Kenan Thompson singing What Up With That, which is oddly comforting when you have a fever, I highly recommend it.

Anyway.

**I-Love-Capn-Raydor:** Well, there's no car-style one on one time but I hope this'll do ;)

**godoggo:** Hmm, I've thought about Mendoza a lot and where I could weave her into the story. I have some ideas but if she's going to make a reappearance then that'll be way in the future. Hope you like this chapter, things are heating up, heh :)

**CaityBeloved:** Obsessed? Really? Hmm :) I'm glad you liked the scent detail though, I think scent is a rather intimate thing and that Brenda is picking up Raydor's in the hallways was indeed my way of emphasizing the intense attraction. Anyway, thank you noticing!

**Tiger87:** There is not enough Brenda/Sharon fic out there, that is so true. More people should write for this fandom. Thank you for leaving a comment, it's great to hear from new people :)

**ceej4:** I feel like I have seen your name before but can't say where. LJ? Hmm. Anyway. Thank you for the nice feedback, it really helps keep the juices flowing. And you're enjoying this story more than you should..? :P

**tianikki:** I'm just going to go on until I run out of adjectives of win :) Could take a while but it's fun.

Well, everyone, thanks for the feedback, I love it and appreciate it. Now on to the next chapter...

**Chapter Seventeen:**

Who Killed Miss Atlanta?

Brenda breathed out slowly and deliberately through her parted lips; a sigh of epic proportions. She tucked her hair behind her ear almost compulsively, looking for a way to keep her hands occupied.

Her skin was tingly, her palms somewhat sweaty, her heart was racing a bit and she couldn't will her brain to focus for even one second on the task at hand.

It was her cashmere cardigan.

It smelled of Raydor.

In fact, the woman was all over it but Brenda refused to take it off.

She also began to wonder if the scent just reminded her of Raydor or if Raydor's scent reminded her of something else altogether. Somehow she suspected the latter might be true and if she could just remember she might be able to discern why it was so attractive to her.

Digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands Brenda read over the sentence she had been trying to read for about five minutes. Somewhere along the line she got lost; right in the middle, where there was something about gun powder residue and something else, whatever it was, Brenda probably wouldn't be finding out anytime soon.

_What in the world could it possibly be?_

She tilted her head a little and sniffed, trying to be inconspicuous about it even though no one could possibly see her.

_Mmm…_

Goose bumps broke out all over her body and Brenda had to draw her shoulder up, tensing her muscles, in order to keep herself from shattering into a thousand pieces.

_So sweet, so lovely, so fresh and delicate. So…so…_

Brenda sighed and tilted her head a bit more, melting at the feelings of glowing warmth the scent enticed in her.

_This is ridiculous._

_Maybe her shampoo? Maybe her perfume?_

She pulled the cardigan up to her nose and breathed in deeply.

_Just look at yourself – you've gone soft in the head._

_But it's so…so incredibly delicious, so warm and sexy and…_

Brenda pulled the cardigan tighter and inhaled every molecule she could possibly get of the scent.

"…oh," she breathed in pleasure, her body starting to feel soft and wobbly all over.

There was a brief knock then the door opened as it always did and who else could possibly stand in the doorway?

"Cap'n Raydor!" Brenda's voice was high and hitched as she stood hurriedly and smoothed down the cardigan.

Raydor's eyes slowly wandered over her and Brenda was acutely aware of the pink hue coloring her cheeks. What worried her even more was the desire the woman could have possibly glimpsed upon her arrival.

"Chief…" Raydor smiled slowly. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

Brenda cleared her throat nonchalantly and patted her hair in place. "Of course not," she said quickly. "What can I help you with, Captain?"

Raydor took a sure step into the room, the door falling shut behind her. "Have you just smelled that?"

The blonde blinked. "Nooo. Why would I do that?"

"Exactly," Raydor said silkily. "Why would you do that?"

Brenda licked her upper lip, swallowed, averted her gaze and said nothing.

"I uh…" Captain Raydor cleared her throat suddenly, her whole attitude changing. "I thought I'd leave this on your desk." She held out a file. "Sergeant Elliott's FID report."

Thankful for the change in topic, Brenda stepped out from behind her desk and took a hold of the file folder Raydor held out to her. "Thank you, Cap'n. I'm sure it's as thorough as always…"

"Of course," she said, her eyes studying the cardigan.

Brenda cleared her throat, the attention she was getting was making her rather nervous. "We brought Marcus Randall in earlier this afternoon."

Raydor gave her a noncommittal nod. "So I've heard."

"They'll try him for murder too…"

"Hmm," the Captain nodded again. "Oh, Detective Mendoza sends her regards. She was very pleased to hear of the successful outcome of your investigation."

The blonde smiled cockily then remembered why the Captain was looking her over like she did and how decidedly uncomfortable it felt to stick to small talk when that was the last thing she would want to do at that moment.

And from the looks of it, Raydor probably wasn't even listening to herself talk, much less Brenda. "Um…how is Detective Mendoza doin'?"

"Fine," Raydor said then narrowed her eyes suddenly. "Isn't that the _thing_ I was wearing the other night?" She asked quickly, her mind obviously not on Mendoza, yet she couldn't help but insult Brenda's sense of fashion.

The blonde glanced down at the _thing_ in question, accidentally catching another whiff of the scent that caused a momentary lapse and a lick of the lips before she answered contritely, "Yes…it is."

Raydor gave her a slow, deliberate nod and a knowing, barely-there smirk. "I see…"

"Look, Captain," Brenda said sharply, throwing the report onto her desk. When she turned around again, Raydor was slowly advancing on her, her hips moving slightly from side to side in that subtle way Raydor seemed to have perfected.

"Yes, Chief?"

This was bad, the blonde realized immediately and drew in a shaky breath as she looked up through already half-lidded eyes yet she also became startlingly aware of how shamefully obviously she was beckoning the woman to come closer; yes, Brenda was downright throwing herself at Raydor.

She swallowed and tried not to lose what was left of her mind when the Captain came even closer. "We've—we've been over this how many times now?" Brenda felt a warm hand resting gently on her waist, barely touching. "Once, twice…oh, three times, I'm sure-"

"Thrice," Raydor said, eyeing her lips.

The tip of the blonde's tongue appeared again as it licked her upper lip, directly playing into whatever Raydor was thinking when she was looking at her like this. "…I don't like the word," Brenda mumbled, knowing that the Captain needn't an answer but too proud to let herself be pulled into this little game just yet.

"It's the correct phrase," Raydor said then, leaning in.

Brenda gasped. "I don't think it matters…" Her eyes closed and her lips parted but she did possess the frame of mind to turn her head away a little. While her body desperately demanded that Raydor just lean in and kiss her and then take her right there on her desk, Brenda's mind grasped at the last shreds of sanity that demanded she walk away from this immediately before it was too late.

When she felt Raydor's cheek against her own, felt her breath in her ear, felt both her hands holding onto her waist and drawing her closer until their bodies were touching gently, Brenda instinctively knew that it was way beyond too late because she was about to fall off the wagon and land, face first, in the gutter.

She could feel her body softening, her muscles weakening, relaxing, melting against the woman until she swayed, gently, into the woman's embrace. Brenda made one last attempt to fight against it by turning her head away a little more but deep down she knew that the maneuver served a whole different purpose.

Brenda felt Raydor's breath on her neck, warm and tickling her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. The woman breathed her in, nuzzled her neck and then covered a patch of skin and the muscle underneath it with her lips.

Molten heat, liquid fire that made Brenda's whole body go slack for a moment, a tingle of arousal, of desire then a sharp sting as the woman bit her. Her tongue trailed lower, silky, warm and wet, tracing over Brenda's pulse point, the carotid artery, suddenly so exposed, that for a moment it made Brenda feel terribly, excitingly, arousingly vulnerable.

Raydor sucked the skin into her mouth, gently, but the blonde felt as if she had been thrown into ice water. Her breath was suddenly stuck in her throat, she became dizzy and deliriously grasped onto the woman's arms as her knees threatened to turn to jelly from the sheer force of her own arousal. They stumbled backwards until Brenda was pressed up against her desk and Raydor flush against her.

A hot wave of desire swept over her, made her whole body throb with want for the woman. She wished she could bury her hands in Raydor's hair and keep her exactly in the spot she was currently lavishing but instead Brenda held onto the woman's arms, grasping at the fabric of her expensive suit with desperation.

This was bad enough, the blonde was very much aware of it, but encouraging Raydor would make it even worse, so she merely held on.

Brenda pried her repeatedly closing eyes open with great effort to try to regain some semblance of awareness beyond Raydor's lips on her skin. Her jaw went slack and her lips parted involuntarily, a breathy, almost silent moan escaped them, while her eyes continued to roll back in her head. She tried to assess the state her body was in, how far she was from losing control completely and realized that it was a mere matter of minutes.

Her nipples had turned hard the moment Raydor had stepped into her personal space and they continued to harden further by the mere way Raydor moved against her. Perspiration dampened her chest, her heart raced, her breath was ragged and she was growing very wet very quickly, which was enough for Brenda to know without a doubt in her mind that her body was ready and was craving more.

And as if Raydor had read her mind or her body's reaction, whichever, the woman grasped a fistful of Brenda's dress and pulled the material up over her thigh.

She shoved her hand under the dress, just the way Brenda had always imagined she would, and exposed a good part of the blonde's thigh in the process, maybe even her underwear and then her fingers dug into her butt and Brenda felt a startling pressure between her legs.

The blonde's eyes closed again, her head falling back. "Ah…" she whimpered and then hissed, "…yes!"

_No._

"Oh…Nnn…"

_No._

The blonde reached down and grasped Raydor's wrist in a vice-grip. They both stilled, not daring to move apart. Brenda tried to take one breath at a time to calm her wildly beating heart and the throbbing between her legs; she felt like crying and buried her face in Raydor's shoulder and neck.

"…let me," the woman whispered and leaned in slightly, yet purposefully, and increased the pressure, making Brenda feel as if she was about to melt against the woman and come right there on the spot. "Just let me," Raydor said again, whispering it gravelly into her ear.

Brenda swallowed convulsively and shook her head almost imperceptibly. It would be so easy to let go and let Raydor shove her hand up her dress. It would be so easy to turn her head a little more, just a bit, and kiss the woman. It would be so easy to move her hips, so easy to slide up onto her desk, part her thighs and let Raydor do what they both knew Brenda wanted her to do.

"We can't," the blonde whimpered at last and felt Raydor exhale against her. The woman's hand slid out from beneath the soft material of Brenda's dress but she didn't move away, she leaned her head onto the blonde's shoulder instead and took one heaving breath after another.

They panted together in that room for a good minute, soaking in each other's proximity before Brenda drew back a little and looked at Raydor for what seemed like an endless moment. She lifted her hand to the woman's cheek, let her fingertips trail to her chin and over her lips, biting her own as she did so and wiped away some of the smeared lipstick.

"I think it's time that we did something about this," Raydor said evenly, her eyes fixated on Brenda's who's trailed the progress of her own fingertips.

"You're right," the blonde responded slowly, pulling her hand away. "We should talk…about this."

"I was thinking more along the lines of um, you, me, a hotel room and sex..."

Brenda's jaw dropped at the shock. She wriggled out from between the desk and Raydor and crossed her arms over her chest. "If you think I'm just gonna hop into bed with you and get it over with, you couldn't be more wrong."

"Oh, pray tell, what amazing plan have you come up with?"

"We-" Brenda cut herself off and swallowed, leveling her voice. "We should stay away from each other and ignore this whole thing…"

"Really?" Raydor threw her hands in the air and put a little distance between them. "Isn't that what we've been doing all along? And look how that turned out."

"Then we've not been tryin' hard enough!"

"Oh," Raydor tilted her head, "So you think that I've only tried a little bit to not sleep with my superior officer, my _married_ boss?"

Brenda licked her lips. "I see your point, nonetheless, there are countless of reasons why this can't ever happen, I'm sure you realize that."

"At the rate we're going, things will get out of hand eventually and I'd rather have them do that in a controlled environment such as a hotel room where no one will be there to witness it."

The blonde scoffed. "My conscience would be there for one."

"Think about it; we'll be dancing this dance over and over for as long as we both work in the same city. It will become increasingly difficult for the both of us to be around one another and, ultimately, our professional conduct will suffer, if it hasn't already. But, what if-"

Brenda snorted, rolling her eyes.

"What if we get it out of our systems? Just this once and then it'll be over and done with."

"That's ridiculous," Brenda drawled. "It won't work."

"Why?"

"Because…you can't just sleep with a person and then walk away, that never works out."

"I don't wanna wake up in the morning and share the paper with you over a cup of coffee and breakfast, no," Raydor said, her voice more urgent than usual. "I want to have sex with you and then go home, alone."

Brenda blinked rapidly at the mental image.

"My point is that I don't feel any emotional attachment to you at all and I will be perfectly fine with walking away afterwards."

The blonde's face fell somewhat as she felt her feet touching the ground for the first time in days. The reality was startling yet Brenda felt little confronted by it. "Well…I have other things to consider too." She was able to keep herself from glancing down at her ring but couldn't help caressing it with her thumb, just to make sure that it was still there.

"Right," Raydor said, her gaze dropping to the ring in question. "Right." She put her hands on her hips, her lips pursed a little, her eyes narrowed as she was mulling everything over. "Okay, well, good night, Chief Johnson."

Brenda blinked, not having expected that. "Night," she said slowly and watched with honest remorse and regret as Raydor walked out.

* * *

Her forehead rested gently against the lukewarm tiles while the hot water was raining down on her, slowly steaming up the entire bathroom.

Brenda hugged her own stomach, her eyes were closed and she was trying to consciously experience every drop hitting her bare skin. She breathed the damp air in, comforted by the fact that it warmed her from the inside. Opening her eyes, Brenda smoothed her wet hair back and rubbed her hands over her face, trying to wash away the memories.

Yet, when her palm slid over her neck, her skin immediately tingled, her eyes fell shut and a shiver shook her body. She still had Raydor on the brain even though she tried to pretend that she had banished the woman from her thoughts but how she could practically feel her upon every inch of her skin was more than prove enough that she would not get rid of Sharon Raydor any time soon.

The woman was persistent, even in her fantasies.

Brenda's hand rubbed her neck, the spot Raydor's lips had lavished, her teeth had grazed and her tongue had licked. Her hand trailed lower, leaving behind a burning, tingling sensation, a want that she had only experienced in the woman's very presence before but at that moment, in the shower, Brenda felt as if Raydor were actually there.

The blonde hugged herself tightly, her eyes squeezed shut, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Her left hand reached out and came to rest against the damp tiles and then Brenda tilted her head a little and leaned it against her bare arm, covering her eyes.

She inhaled shakily and could've sworn at that moment that she caught Raydor's scent. It was lovely, a word Brenda couldn't imagine describing anything other about the woman if it weren't for her scent.

What had happened, Brenda couldn't stop thinking about it, how far they had gone, how close they had been to giving in. The blonde felt like she had gotten her first taste of how it could possibly be, of how much passion and heat they could generate between them, of how much arousal the woman could induce in her.

Brenda's hand slowly trailed down her body, still unsure, still embarrassed even though she was here all by herself.

She was wet and she was warm and wishing as her fingertips glided through warmth and wetness that she had let go of Raydor's hand, that she had let the woman do what they had both wanted her to do.

Shove her hand up all the way, kiss her with an all-consuming hunger, lips sliding wetly against the others, tongues touching while their hands roamed over their bodies in their unadulterated desire for the other.

A tug on her underwear, Raydor pushing her up against the desk so hard it hurt, and then her warm fingers sliding roughly through her folds, until the woman could feel her heartbeat pulsating against her fingertips from the sheer pleasure she had set free.

Brenda gasped, her eyes opening briefly as her outstretched arm shook in exertion. She turned slowly, deliriously, and leaned back, the constant spray of hot water cascading down her breasts, her arm that was lodged between her legs and down the drain. Tilting her head to the side, away, as if she couldn't bear look at what she was doing, Brenda squeezed her eyes shut tightly, her fingertips moving between her thighs.

Her breathing grew labored as she squeezed her own breast, her thoughts on Raydor, on how the woman was lavishing her chest, biting her through the thin material of her bra.

No one would have known, she thought again, no one had been there, no one would have come in, Raydor could have taken her right there, quickly, quietly, only gasps and whimpers and furniture scraping against the floor.

It probably wouldn't have been enough; they could have done it like that a hundred times and it wouldn't have been enough yet Brenda couldn't stop regretting her decision.

_If you had just let her…_

_…because you know you want to feel her inside of you._

Brenda's eyes shot open, the feel of Raydor so startlingly real. She gasped as her knees almost buckled under the heavy weight of her own desire then a surprised, shocked and almost enlightened expression took over her features.

She swallowed a moan, her head dropping back against the tiles as she involuntarily slid down a little.

It was then, in the throes of passion, as satisfaction came crashing down upon her, bathing her in warmth and sweet, sweet pleasure, that Brenda made the decision.

It came to her like an epiphany.

She would sleep with the woman. She would sleep with Sharon Raydor and there was no doubt about it in her mind.

Then Brenda squeezed her eyes shut as the pleasure slowly ebbed away yet she refused to waste even the littlest bit, her mind holding onto Raydor's body, her scent, her fingers claiming Brenda's release, her lips, her moist breath on her skin, a satisfied hum...

She wondered, once she felt like herself again, if this should worry her or rather, if the little amount of guilt she felt should worry her. Brenda had expected to feel awful but after everything the guilt was only moderate.

What was baffling was that she had felt a second, much more significant release beside the physical. Walking about, carrying that overwhelming desire, wasn't easy. That one time, when she had given up on processed sugar had felt a lot like this; staring temptation in the eye, making rules for herself, restrictions, until she consumed by the desire for sweets, for chocolate, and couldn't bring herself to think about anything other than that very thing.

Fact was that Brenda wanted Sharon Raydor a lot, more than chocolate even, yet by denying herself even the simplest pleasures, like indulging in a fantasy and getting a bit of satisfaction out of it, Brenda had inadvertently worsened the situation for herself considerably.

But naked like this, satiated for the moment, free of a restriction she had placed upon herself, Brenda felt more at ease than she had in a long time.

Less like Fritz's wife that still struggled with the intimacy of a marriage, of having to compromise, of being confronted with a vast amount of emotions that all needed to be dealt with or reciprocated while she wasn't even ready to face her own emotional issues.

She felt less like a daughter that tried to please her father, afraid of being a disappointment, of not being the daughter a great man like him deserved to have.

And she felt less like Chief Johnson who had never apologized for her power yet wished, despite all her control issues, that she could put the decisions into somebody else's hands, let somebody else buckle under the responsibility and the pressure.

At that moment Brenda felt as if she had something of her own again. Sharon Raydor was hers, only hers.

The blonde hummed as she shampooed her hair, a small smirk curling her lips upwards.

Today she felt like a beautiful, independent and desirable woman.

* * *

That man thought he knew her inside out.

Brenda tilted her head to the side contemplatively as she watched Fritz sleep, lying on his stomach.

He probably knew her better than anybody else; not like Will who had known of her weaknesses, yet hadn't counted on her strengths. She had left him and he hadn't seen it coming. Fritz knew her better than her parents did, she lied to them a lot after all but they weren't vicious lies, just little white ones to keep them from hurting.

Or from being disappointed in her but Brenda rarely managed to even deal with that thought let alone contemplate it.

Fritz knew her better than anyone, better than the CIA maybe, he wouldn't put much past her yet Brenda knew without a doubt that he wouldn't take her for the cheating kind; he probably wouldn't have married her if he thought of her that way.

And she wasn't, Brenda leaned against the doorframe, she wasn't a cheater exactly. By not being with Raydor she was cheating herself out of a possibly very satisfying experience. Of course, she knew that there were certain things one just could not have but Raydor? Brenda didn't count her as one of them.

At least as long as Fritz didn't find out, having Raydor seemed well within reach.

The blonde sighed gently and padded towards the bed. Crawling in, she snuggled up to Fritz, spooning his side.

It wasn't about him. She wasn't doing it to hurt him and as long as he never found out, he wouldn't end up with a broken heart. He could never know, so she had to be careful, more careful than others who wanted to be caught subconsciously or who let their desires dictate their actions.

As much as Brenda wanted it, she couldn't throw caution to the wind, no, she had to calculate and execute her plans with the utmost care.

There are no such things as accidents after all.

She closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply, taking in his familiar, almost homey, yet masculine scent. Brenda loved this man more than she had ever loved anyone, even more than Will.

Her eyes opened slowly. It was his fault that she was afraid to love anyone now. She had thought about it before, not too extensively because that just wasn't who she was but she had thought about it and had come to a decision.

She had decided to love Fritz, she had decided to feel and it had been the right thing to do.

But Will had taken something from her and now Brenda wondered if the glaring wound he had left behind, the one she thought Fritz had healed, was bleeding once again and that maybe she was using Raydor as a band-aid.

And that was a ridiculous notion.

Brenda rolled her eyes; it wasn't about Will, she couldn't make it about Will who had been the scapegoat for many of her personal problems.

It was her alone, Brenda Leigh Johnson.

She couldn't figure out why she needed this so much or why it had to be Raydor but she knew she needed to have it in order to not be driven crazy by life itself.

And Fritz? He loved her like no one had ever loved her before. She loved how he smiled at her, how he could just see right through her sometimes. How he accepted her. Tears formed in her eyes at that thought.

He accepted her more than anyone ever had. Everyone had always wanted her to change, to be someone else and, granted, Fritz had demanded change as well but he had never asked for things that Brenda couldn't give.

That was the difference and it was why she loved him as much as she did.

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** Ugh, I have a nasty...nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty flu, plus a somewhat messed up back from martial arts (I doubt it was the Tai chi though) and that has never happened to me before in like 17 years, omg. I also keep hearing Kenan Thompson singing What Up With That, which is oddly comforting when you have a fever, I highly recommend it.

Anyway.

**Kiva4ever: **Secrets are hard to keep but we all know how good Brenda is at it, right? I can't say too much :P **  
**

**I-Love-Capn-Raydor:** Nope, patience really isn't one of your virtues :P But here's the new chapter...hope you didn't die in the meantime, that would be horrible 'cause I still need you to finish Synchronicity :)

**rcf1989:** Haha, that's really awesome - Kama Sutra on iTunes while reading the shower scene. Yep, that fits. I hope you don't die reading this chapter, it's not as bad, promise.

**KDTB: **By now it must seem like my Brenda is getting off on denying herself, heh. But we're reaching the boiling point soon, strangely enough, I'm looking forward to it too :P**  
**

**CaityBeloved:** Ha, just you wait and see ;) I hope I'm not going to disappoint once there's actual sex happening. As for problems, well, sex is never just sex, at least that's what they say but, we'll see :)

**Cellen8: **Bitte, keine zu hohen Erwartungen! Na ja, das "Sex-Kapitel" (so nenne ich das) ist schon fast fertig und das ein oder andere wird doch etwas anders laufen als erwartet. Ein wenig Romantik kann ja auch nicht schaden, oder?**  
**

**LizzieV: **Stuck between a rock and a hard desk, hahahaha! Delicious :P**  
**

Once again, thanks everyone for the positive feedback, you guys rock!

**Chapter Eighteen:**

L.A. Confidential

They had seen Provenza almost fall all over himself for a pretty, female witness, who was much younger than him of course. They had had pizzas together, once they had put ham on Flynn's vegetarian order about which he had rightfully complained.

They had caught three cases, solved them both. They were all excited about Christmas which was just around the corner and the blonde hadn't spoken a word to or with Captain Raydor for a little over two weeks.

The woman had had some time off after the shooting but since her return Raydor had gone out of her way to avoid the blonde.

Brenda had hoped somewhere in the back of her mind that Raydor would keep on pursuing her, that she could play hard to get now that she had decided that she was indeed 'to get' but the woman had kept her distance.

Raydor must loathe her because she didn't seem interested anymore at all.

It drove Brenda crazy and she began wondering if Raydor knew all that and was doing it on purpose just to get the blonde to want her more.

But maybe that was a ridiculous notion.

On another day that was just like all the others before where Provenza could potentially end up eyeing a female witness or where they could catch another case or eat pizza, Brenda's eyes fell upon the object of her desires.

Anything could have happened, yet, that day, Brenda couldn't keep her feet from moving towards the woman.

Raydor stood in the elevator, having just gotten into work, like Brenda, and was reading over a file, her lips slightly pursed as her eyes scanned over the text. The folder rested delicately upon her palms, as if she didn't even hold it, a mechanical looking posture that only Raydor was capable of turning sexy.

It was her casual nonchalance, her fine taste that suggested she wasn't even trying to be sexy, her professional, aloof demeanor that made one question what lay underneath, the sophistication; it all seemed to be designed to drive Brenda crazy.

The door was about to close when she reached it and dashed inside. She pushed a button, came to stand next to Raydor and held her breath. The woman noticed her then, noticed that it wasn't just a random person standing next to her but Brenda Leigh Johnson. She lifted her head slowly, glanced over and closed her file folder.

"Chief Johnson..."

Brenda looked at her, her lips parted, she blinked and said, "Sharon…" Silence enveloped them suddenly and tension filled the little cabin as if on cue. The blonde took another moment to revel in it, to bask in the knowledge that Raydor wasn't cured, wasn't over her, she saw it in her eyes, she saw that the woman was just as sickeningly in lust with her as before.

Her lips moved soundlessly – what could she possibly say? I changed my mind? I want you? When? Where?

_Ding. _

The elevator door opened and Brenda couldn't believe she had just wasted this opportunity. She also couldn't believe that Raydor, who was usually rather brash and straight-forward, stood before her, speechless, wide-eyed and barely breathing.

She looked as if she wanted to say something too.

The blonde stepped out into the busy hallway, there was nothing else she could do and cast one last lingering glance at Raydor as the elevator doors closed. She felt terrified of what she had just done, of what she had almost done yet the bitter taste of regret lingered as she navigated the hallways and walked mindlessly into Major Crimes.

"Morning, Chief…" Gabriel said as she swept past him but Brenda's thoughts had her too occupied to even process such a simple phrase as that. Gabriel glanced at Flynn who was also already there that early morning and lifted a pair of questioning eyebrows at him.

Flynn shrugged and went to answer his phone; whatever it was, he wouldn't be sticking his nose into it.

Brenda threw the door to her office shut, dumped her purse on her desk and took off her pink trench coat. She took a deep breath, still somewhat dazed from the earlier events, and shook her head a little. What had she been thinking?

Brenda rolled her eyes at herself while rounding her desk.

Raydor must know what that had been about, the woman wasn't stupid, she must have seen right through her. A sudden wave of panic washed over the blonde – what if Raydor confronted her about it?

But then again, Brenda thought, pursing her lips, wasn't that what she had wanted anyway? She glanced down, realizing that she had subconsciously opened her candy drawer.

…but there was the Willy Wonka chocolate bar and since the drawer was already open…

Brenda snatched the chocolate and tore impatiently at the wrapping, her eyes falling on a bag of M&M's in the process which she decided she wanted instead.

Besides, she saved the Wonka for very bad situations and this certainly wasn't one…or was it?

No matter, Brenda thought and opened the M&M's bag, spilling some of its contents on her desk. She picked up a yellow one and ate it right away and thought about what things had come to while she chewed – pre-Raydor she hadn't subconsciously opened drawers, post-Raydor she was stuffing M&M's into her mouth at barely eight o'clock in the morning.

It all seemed like a big farce now, all those months spent denying her attraction. Becoming weak, giving in, turning Raydor down, repeat.

What an idiot she had been!

Brenda breathed heavily through her nose and smashed a green one between her teeth.

All that just to come to the conclusion that she wanted it, wanted her, and was willing, now that she realized that it was quite inevitable, just to have the woman not want her back anymore.

How childish.

The blonde rolled her eyes and ate a blue one…she never ate the blue ones.

But then again, Brenda thought and made a face at the taste in her mouth, maybe this was a good thing after all. She turned on her computer and nodded to herself. Now she could go back to her life, forget about Raydor and move on.

Splendid idea!

Brenda decided to get started with the performance reviews; they were due in about two weeks but for once she wanted to get them done not at the very last minute.

…even though she had done some of her best work under pressure.

Be that as it may, she thought and opened a file folder, she should bring some order into things.

Yes, Brenda smiled confidently and popped a brown one into her mouth while playing with her pen, this was much better. She was relieved, happy, looking forward to a life without unnecessary complications. She could do this.

There, she was already moving on.

And it felt great!

Who needed Raydor anyway?

How silly.

Her phone rang, interrupting her victorious self-congratulations.

"Deputy Chief Johnson?"

"What were you going to say?"

And all her resolutions were wiped from her brain as if they had never been there to begin with.

The blonde glanced outside at her squad, all of her good intentions and morals completely compromised yet again by the force of her undeniable want, not only for the woman herself but for whatever had been between them since the day they had met.

No one was looking but Brenda still felt too exposed. "Hold on." She dumped the phone on her desk and made to close the blinds. It was pretty much ridiculous, no one could hear her, yet she required more privacy, in fear that somebody would catch a look on her face or a blush or an embarrassed smile, all things Raydor could induce in her.

She practically leapt back into her chair, heart beating wildly as the chair rolled back a couple inches from the impact. "I-I-I think I…changed my mind."

"You _think_ you've changed your mind?"

Brenda swallowed heavily and opened her candy drawer. "I…" Her hand hovered over a Ding Dong. "I changed my mind about us. I want…I want to…"

There was a slight pause on the other end and Brenda already worried that Raydor had hung up on her but then there was the sound of even, controlled breathing. "You want what exactly?"

"…you really are gonna make me say it, aren't you?" Brenda drawled.

"I just don't want there to be any misunderstandings."

She had found a Reese's peanut butter cup and was just carefully drawing back the wrapping, phone between her ear and her shoulder, when there was a knock on the door. Brenda almost dropped the peanut butter cup, as well as the phone, while trying to look as normal as possible.

Gabriel came in right away and held up a file as he saw her on the phone. Brenda pretended to listen but in truth was too terrified to speak because she couldn't even trust her own voice to not betray her.

As the door closed behind him, the blonde let out a deep breath. "Oh, for heaven's sakes, can we not talk about this on the phone?"

"Then how else would you want to talk about it?"

Brenda nibbled on her lip. "Let's meet at Malloy's-"

"No, no, no, that's too obvious – everybody would wonder why the two of us were suddenly so friendly…but we could do lunch tomorrow." There was silence then Raydor said, obviously reading Brenda's mind, "Or meet me at my car tonight when you're done and we'll drive around the block a couple times."

Brenda hesitated; this was it, this would change her life forever.

She could still say no later on, of course.

"Alright. I'll call you."

"Okay."

Now she didn't want to hang up like a little school girl talking to her crush. "Okay…bye."

There was a click on the other end; Raydor had hung up without another word. Brenda swallowed and realized suddenly that her whole body was shaking with fear.

Did she just do that?

Brenda blinked once, twice, and released a shuddering breath then she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and ate a red one.

* * *

Brenda's hand hovered over the phone while she contemplated which of her options was the most prudent.

"Chief?"

The blonde jumped at the unexpected presence in the doorway; Provenza stood there with raised eyebrows and a stack of files in his hand. "All the i's dotted and all the t's crossed, all they need is your signature."

Brenda nodded slowly, putting herself back together. "Just leave 'em on the table over there, I'll get to them tomorrow."

Provenza nodded also as he walked to the round table all the while watching her from the corner of his eye. "You should go home, Chief…it's late."

"I will, I will," she reassured him. "There're just some things I need to take care of first."

"Are you alright?" He asked as he put the files down and observed Brenda's all over the place behavior. "I mean, you've been cozy with the paper work all day and if that's not reason for concern then what is?"

Brenda glared. "Very funny, Lieutenant." She did feel somewhat better though. "You go on home and I promise I'll be leavin' soon, there's just a little somethin' I need to take care of real quick."

"Promise?"

"Quick as two shakes of a lamb's tail, Lieutenant."

Provenza gave in, knowing that she didn't want to talk about it. "Alright. Goodnight, Chief."

"'Night…" She smiled and watched him leave. Her gaze fell upon her phone for the umpteenth time that day and Brenda knew that she had put off making a definite decision for as long as she possibly could.

It was time to face reality, look her own wants, needs and desires in the eye and bend to her own will – she wanted to do this, it was as simple as that, yet accepting her own willingness to cheat, her selfishness, her almost narcissistic egoism was difficult.

With accepting her own fallibleness, her own weakness and her willingness to submit to the moral-reprehensible, Brenda suddenly thought very little of herself. She knew that it weren't just bad people who cheated…who needed things, like she did but now she regretted never having thought this through, especially before she had married Fritz.

That she didn't regret, marrying Fritz but why hadn't she known before that something like this could happen, that Raydor could happen?

How little did she really know about herself?

And why couldn't she just walk away from it? Why did she feel like she needed this so much?

She wasn't a bad person, Brenda knew that, but perhaps she was just really selfish. Picking up that telephone and calling the woman would be a very bad thing to do but how could she ever be happy if there were things she just needed but never got? Maybe it was Fritz's fault too, a little bit at least and as long as he never found out…

…because Brenda could live with herself, she could live with knowing what she had done. She nodded and picked up the phone.

She could live with herself, look in the mirror, look Fritz in the eye and all. She couldn't be who everyone wanted her to be, she couldn't be Mrs. Howard, she couldn't be the Chief, she couldn't be little Brenda Leigh all the time, she had to have something of her own and if nobody gave her the space to do so then she had to take what she needed.

Raydor only wanted her, just sex with a woman called Brenda Leigh Johnson. No dinners, no promises, no pressure, no high expectations and somehow that last thought soothed Brenda's racing mind the most.

No expectations meant no disappointments.

She couldn't fail.

Brenda realized that she was trying to rationalize the doubts and the guilt away but in the end she couldn't care less…

Besides, she wanted the woman, she even wanted her at that very moment – her desire to be with Raydor outweighed her bad conscience.

She dialed Raydor's extension and her heart seemed to stop as she waited with baited breath.

_Click_.

"FID, Captain Raydor speaking…"

Brenda exhaled slowly and leaned back in her seat, a lazy smile overtaking her features momentarily. "Major Crimes, Chief Johnson speaking," she drawled somewhat flirtatiously.

Raydor hummed on the other end of the line, a smile audible in the sound she made. "I knew you would call but keep putting it off until the last possible moment."

The blonde blushed at that yet didn't let on to the fact as she spoke. "Why's that?"

"I was just about to leave," Raydor explained coolly. "My squad has gone home for the night and they did find it peculiar that I would stay an additional hour just to complete their annual evaluations."

Brenda snorted and felt herself relax further into her chair. "Guess what I've been doin' today…"

"Don't tell me…"

She let out a little laugh then remembered who she was talking to and that she couldn't really stand the woman and that this wasn't supposed to be friendly because just sex wasn't friendly, it was business. "So…"

"So…" Raydor mimicked, waiting for her to make the next step.

"I'll meet you at your car?" Brenda blinked; she felt like she had just sealed her fate with that one simple question.

"Okay," Raydor responded lightly yet there was a trace of genuine surprise accompanying the word.

* * *

Brenda sat for another five minutes, just to make sure she wouldn't run into Raydor on her way down.

In the elevator she shifted from one foot to the other then leaned back against the cold wall of the cabin, bumping her head against the metal a couple times. Her hands became sweaty yet they felt cold and shaky.

She left the building, descended the stairs and walked confidently down the street where Raydor said she would wait. Her knees felt like jelly, as if they would buckle under her weight any minute as she walked with her head held high.

Oh, dear lord, what had she gotten herself into?

Yet Brenda couldn't turn around and walk away, in fact, her feet seemed to carry her faster and faster the more she thought of walking away.

The pressure in her veins became almost unbearable as Brenda spotted the car. The world around her shifted and blurred for a moment and the blonde had to blink against the oncoming dizziness.

Brenda exhaled shakily as she grasped the door handle and felt the adrenaline rush she hadn't thought could get any worse, turning her limbs into shaking, quivering and almost useless appendages. She pulled, opened the door and felt as if she had been there before – déjà vu.

Perhaps, yes, she had gotten into one or two cars without knowing what to expect, she had had secrets, still did, had operated hidden in the shadows where no one would see.

Her time with the CIA lay far behind her but still she reveled in the familiar rush of excitement that secrecy and quiet, strategic planning induced in her. The blonde's eyes scanned the other cars, the street for good measure and then she got in and closed the door.

When Brenda looked over at the Raydor, the woman stared at her as if she hadn't expected Brenda to actually show up but, instead of feeling smug, the blonde just felt a sort of urgent nervousness bubbling up within herself.

There were things to be said, things she had considered more than she cared to admit, things that had to be made rules which had to be followed.

"Fritz has to be out of town," Brenda said almost immediately.

Raydor blinked and said nothing at first then started the motor and pulled away from the curb. "Alright."

"And it has to be in a hotel room, not your place or mine."

"Of course."

"And you can't call whenever you feel like it."

The Captain nodded. "Neither can you."

Brenda snorted. "Why would I ever call you…" She swallowed as she realized how that must have sounded and that she had actually meant it that way too. She glanced at Raydor who raised an eyebrow at her.

"I don't know," the Captain drawled, "Maybe because you want this just as much as I do."

The blonde nibbled on her lower lip, knowing the woman was right.

"And you came to me, remember?"

"You started it!"

Raydor scoffed, scandalized. "I did not!"

"Of course you did with your little stunt in my office…gropin' a superior officer, while in the middle of an investigation no less-"

"You encouraged it," Raydor sneered.

"I did not encourage that sort of behavior-"

"You don't have the slightest clue what you've been doing," Raydor mumbled under her breath.

"I do!" Brenda screeched, not really knowing what Raydor meant anyway. "I do so!"

"Can we just talk this through and agree upon some sort of plan…please?" The Captain said, holding back her irritation as she turned right.

"That's why I'm-what are you doin'?"

Raydor had pulled into a smaller side-street and was parking the car under a line of trees. "Do you have any idea when your husband will be out of town?"

Brenda glanced outside, no one was really there, still, it wasn't dark yet. "I'm not sure…he said somethin' a couple weeks ago but it hasn't come up again."

"A friend of mine at the FBI told me that they were closing in on El Diablo-"

"El Diablo?"

"And that they were going to set up wire tabs. I thought your husband had been working that case with a task force, so why wouldn't he want to participate in the arrest? I was just wondering-"

"Maybe he would if he weren't the liaison to the LAPD," Brenda responded contritely, somewhat put off by the fact that she hadn't known about all this.

"Why does he have to be out of town?" Raydor ran her fingers through her hair, something Brenda had never seen her do before. "Why can't we just meet on a day off?"

"No," Brenda said immediately, her eyes dropping to those lips. "No, no, no…he has to be away. We'll just have to wait a little while longer."

"I don't want to wait any longer."

"You'll just have to!" Brenda whispered harshly. "We've waited all this time-"

"And whose fault was that?"

"Captain…" Brenda breathed, the warning audible in her voice.

The woman pursed her lips, giving up on her petulance. "It's different now that you've changed your mind…" Raydor trailed off, took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly. "Fine," she said airily and rolled her eyes like only she could. "We'll wait."

Brenda sighed in relief and looked at the woman who was staring out of the window, purposefully avoiding her. It was one of those moments where reality seemed to catch up with her, seemed to crash down upon her like a wave. She would sleep with this woman.

The thought seemed strangely surreal.

The Captain glanced at her after a while, an eyebrow raised then reached for the key and was about to start the ignition when her hand stilled. "I do hope that you won't be changing your mind again because I don't particularly enjoy playing these games…"

Brenda knew somewhere in the back of her mind that she must have confused the hell out of the woman; she had put them both through hell with her constant back and fro, had sent an abundance of mixed signals and that probably wasn't painting a reliable and trustworthy picture of herself.

They must have stung, all those rejections. Brenda felt remorseful because even though she didn't particularly like the woman all that much, she still wasn't out to hurt her feelings.

Brenda blinked and reached out rather impulsively, not knowing what she was going to do herself yet, when her palm touched Raydor's cheek and the woman's eyes drifted down to her lips, Brenda was once again reminded of why she was here, of why she had to put everything on the line for this.

Her body hummed and tingled and warmed at the feel of the woman, at her presence, at the mere way the air that surrounded her felt and smelled and sizzled.

Brenda couldn't take it, she couldn't feel anything but the warmth between her legs and her pounding heart. The blonde leaned in slowly and closed the little space left between them.

Her eyes remained open, even as Raydor's closed, even as their lips touched gently. It was when Raydor leaned in a little more and kissed her bottom lip that Brenda's eyes fell shut quite involuntarily. Arousal curled along her spine and for a moment all Brenda wanted to do was to reach down, let her palm slide over Raydor's chest.

Then she drew back, her eyes opening to the sight of a barely composed Raydor. As the woman blinked at her and her gaze landed upon the blonde again, Brenda could see that the time for proper conduct was long gone and attempting to suppress it all was rather futile.

Raydor lunged at her, pressed their lips together forcefully and immediately, without any delay, their tongues were touching and they were kissing wantonly, driven by an all-consuming need for the other that had been repressed, hidden and pushed aside for so long that it now seemed to erupt violently.

Brenda moaned into the kiss, the first time she had given herself permission to do so which was when she threw caution to the wind and grabbed a fistful of Raydor's hair, also a first.

She buried her hand in it and it felt wonderful, soft, silky, and much better than she had imagined it would then she pulled the woman tighter against her lips and kissed her as deeply and as forcefully as she could, eager and in need to taste and to feel as much of her as possible.

Brenda's other hand, the one that wasn't wound tightly into thick, reddish brown hair, settled onto that perfect knee.

Raydor's skin was warm, smooth, soft and feeling so undeserving of the hard touches that didn't linger, didn't appreciate, but Brenda couldn't help herself now that nothing mattered anymore, now that she had allowed herself to express her desires.

She shoved her hand under the skirt, her fingertips digging into Raydor's thigh which prompted a small, deep noise that was cut off by a hitching breath and then she kissed open-mouthed kisses along the woman's jaw because she had to know what her skin really tasted like. Raydor breathed wetly against her ear, the woman's hand wound tightly into her hair, indicating that she quite liked the attention she was getting.

Brenda felt a rush of excitement, especially once Raydor pulled her even closer as if wanting to crawl right into her; the blonde didn't mind, she wanted the same. She sucked on the woman's neck, licked, inhaled, shoved her hand up her skirt a little further and felt, to her surprise, Raydor's legs part as much as the tight material would allow.

The woman moaned in pleasure, her breathing harsh and fast and moist, and her grip on Brenda's hair and her shoulder tight but then, out of nowhere, Raydor pushed her away.

Brenda gasped, panted, kissed the woman's willing lips for a moment then was pushed back again. "Phone…your phone…"

It was ringing. "Shit," Brenda cursed under her breath, something she did not often say and rummaged through her purse. Squinting at the screen, she immediately threw a worried glance at Raydor. "It's Fritz."

"Well, answer it," the woman said pragmatically without even a trace of anger or disappointment.

"Hi, Fritzie." Brenda glanced over at Raydor who sat with her eyes closed, her lips pursed, her shoulders tensed and her hands between her knees. "What'd you say?" She hadn't heard a word. "Okay…no, no, that's-yes, of course. I'm just leavin'. Yes. I'll see you in a bit. Bye…"

The blonde hung up and blinked. She had just lied, blatantly at that.

She looked over at Raydor who was looking at her and wanted nothing more than to kiss the woman again. "I, I, I really have to, have to go." Goosebumps broke out all over her body rather unexpectedly; that was how far things had come, Brenda thought, now she was getting aroused by merely looking at the woman.

Raydor just nodded once then took a small breath as if she was about to say something but instead opened her purse and produced a small white tissue. She reached over and Brenda held impossibly still because even though she should leave, and even though she knew that the time wasn't right, she couldn't help but greedily take every little touch, every little second she had with the woman.

Raydor touched her chin, tilted her head to the side and then dabbed at her mouth. "Lipstick," she said very quietly and dabbed a little more.

Brenda couldn't do anything but stare at the woman, study her features, and let her eyes greedily drink in the sight before her. She was beautiful. Magnificent. Impressive.

Sexy.

Alluring.

Impossibly sensual.

Raydor looked up at her, into her eyes with an intense and knowing stare that Brenda could barely take without melting into the woman. "Soon," she said breathlessly.

Raydor nodded.

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: First of all, be warned, there's some Fritz/Brenda stuff in this one but for all who really hate it, I think it's bearable :P  
**

Anyway.

**tayryn:** Boy, you read that at work? Don't do that! :P I want to thank you though for taking the time to leave such detailed feedback, that means a lot and I'm happy to hear that you still like this story as much as in the beginning. I do love the characters and I always try to stay true to them, thank you for noticing. Anyway, they will resolve that tension soon, or at least they will try...

**rebakathy**: Patience isn't one of your virtues? Well, you must be going crazy with me then because I take wayyyy too long to update all the time. Terrible...

**Jits**: Thank you! :) Hope you like the new chapter.

**tianikki**: Amazingly, fantastically awesome? Oh, stop! ...on second thought, please, do go on :P

**I-Love-Capn-Raydor**: To Siberia? So he can see Palin from his house? Yeah :P As for all that sex, well, I think they'll have lots of it but we'll see.

**godoggo**: I'm well again, nasty flu took forever, sheesh. I hope you didn't cry, I'd feel really, really awful about that although I can't promise to do better in the future...as you can see, I'm already late updating. Bad, bad, bad me...

**KDTB**: Hmm, I can't really comment on Sharon's straightness/queerness status, I also can't comment on her emotional investment int he affair but let's just say that there will be surprises and things might not turn out the way you'll think. That was probably a very annoying answer, right? Hmm, I also dimly remember the song 'Burning Bridges' but I haven't had that one in mind when writing chapter 16. To be honest, I've been listening to a lot of blues when writing this fic, and Dire Straits for some reason...and weirdly enough, David Lynch but since you recommend 'Burning Bridges', I'll give it a listen again.

**ithinkyourewonderful**: Ha, you read the whole thing in one night? You're nuts! But that is a rather amazing compliment, so, thank you :) I do hope though that you're not left trying to scroll further down again, looking for a continuation - it's not really a cliffhanger, is it?

**Cellen8**: Wird Fritz die Affäre aufdecken oder nicht? Hmmm :) Fürs erste ist das ja Wurst, denn bald gibts 'sex chapters', haha.

**tenearthimps**: I'm glad you actually like the plot :P No, really, not many people appreciate plot anymore these days, although the plot is going to be rather one sided for the next couple chapters. Anyway, thanks for the feedback :)

**LizzieV**: Sex sells...right? I know what you mean though, I've written M rated things before (on LJ) and those always get more attention than the other fics. But, yeah, I'll try my best with the sex scenes, I've written most of it already, so I have plenty of time to go over every little detail. Anyway, thank you for your continued support - that sounded kinda weird, but you know what I mean :)

**CaityBeloved**: Well, I can't say what will develop or what won't between the two but there will be surprises in store, yep, terribly exciting :P Thank you for the compliment though, that's nice of you to say :)

Well. Here's the new chapter, I hope you all like it and that you're all patient with me (even though patience is not necessarily one of your virtues). Thanks everyone for the encouragement and the feedback, I really appreciate it.

**Chapter Nineteen:**

The Devil Is In The Details

Brenda smacked her lips, dabbed at the corner of her mouth and blinked at her reflection in the small mirror that was adorned with prints of bamboo. She added a bit more lipstick and tilted her head to the side, finding herself pretty fascinating that evening.

Of course it had nothing to do with the fact that she was getting Chinese takeout but everything to do with the fact that she had kissed Captain Raydor only 30 minutes ago. She had made the woman feel weak, she had made her soft, sweet and, most importantly, aroused. She had a certain amount of control over the woman which gave Brenda a sense of satisfaction.

"Number 66, please? Hello? Miss?"

Brenda turned, remembering that she was 66. She stepped up to the counter and smiled at the Asian man.

"Sixteen sixty-six…"

She paid and took her bags.

On the drive home the blonde began to descend from the high she had enjoyed floating about upon for the last hour. It still baffled her that the woman didn't want anything from her beside the obvious, of course.

At least Brenda was hoping that Raydor wasn't planning on sleeping her way to the top but that was just a ridiculous notion on second thought.

No, it was just sex.

But then again, sex was such a little word that insufficiently described what Brenda and surely Raydor also had in mind. She remembered when Fritz had first started courting her, how she had been swept up and carried away until things had started to have meanings; the first kiss, the first time having Fritz stay over, the first time having sex.

That hadn't been just sex; it had been laden with emotions.

Him moving in, him meeting her family and all the stress that had come with it.

She wouldn't have any of that with Raydor because the woman wasn't asking for any of it, not for making love, not for emotions, not for moving in and certainly not for meeting her family.

Brenda smiled and let out a breath – it felt liberating!

Why hasn't she ever done something like this before? Of course she had to be late again and wait until she was married.

But did those things even work out when one wasn't married? She would've had to look for a married guy then…

Oh.

Brenda's smile fell.

She had already done that with Pope.

But that wasn't the same thing, she argued, she had been in love with him and Raydor was not in love with her at all, that much was clear.

Brenda sat for a moment after she had parked the car in the driveway, abhorred by the idea of being Will in this whole scenario. She then felt relieved once it occurred to her that she wasn't going to cheat on an emotional level which was what Will had done; he had cheated twice come to think of it!

He had cheated on his wife by being in love with Brenda and he had cheated on her by still loving his wife, that was twice as bad! Brenda wasn't in love, neither was Raydor, no hurt feelings, just sex.

She nodded and grabbed the bags with the takeout.

"Honey, I'm home," she called jokingly into the house as she entered through the backdoor and stepped into the kitchen. Fritz appeared in the doorway, wearing sweat pants and his grey FBI shirt. He smiled at her and at the bags that she was setting down on the table.

"Am I glad to see you," he put his arm around her waist, kissed her cheek and pulled out a chair immediately thereafter. "'Cause I'm starving!"

Brenda watched him for a moment relieved on one hand that he hadn't noticed anything different about her, yet disconcerted and oddly offended by that same fact. "I got you a surprise…" She said after a moment.

"Yeah? What is it?"

The blonde flounced to the cabinet and got out a wine glass for herself. "You know those tiny spring rolls they put in for free?"

Fritz grinned and wriggled his eyebrows at her. "You mean the ones I like so much?"

"Yep, those," Brenda blushed unexpectedly. "I asked them to put two more in…"

Right at that moment Fritz produced the spring rolls in question; he immediately bit into one.

"Hey!"

"What?" He mumbled around a mouthful. "They're so good!"

The blonde snorted and picked up a bottle of Merlot. She opened it on the counter, deliberately turning away from Fritz as a feeling of unsettling intensity washed over her. He hadn't noticed anything but surely, Brenda thought, she must be different or at least seem that way.

Well, maybe not. Maybe kissing Raydor had done nothing to her.

Maybe that was actually a good thing.

_Plop! _

She had pulled the cork out successfully and the aroma of the wine began floating about the room.

"No Happy Family?" Fritz wondered, having gone through all the bags already.

"No," Brenda drawled and shrugged her shoulders, smelling the wine. "I was getting tired of that," she said and poured herself a glass.

Fritz commented that with a raised eyebrow; apparently, Brenda thought, she was surprising people today. She sat delicately opposite him and sipped on her wine while Fritz got the plates and divided the food.

"Anything interesting happen today?" He asked.

"Um," Brenda blinked. "No, not really." She tilted her head and sipped. "I finished my team's evaluations early."

Fritz narrowed his eyes at her. "What's the matter with you?"

It was a joke or wasn't it?

"If I had known, I could've stopped by for lunch…"

Brenda waved him off and dug into her food. "I worked right through that…didn't even notice I missed it." She had been too preoccupied. "How was your day?" She asked quickly.

"The usual," he said and poked at a piece of mushroom. "Did you hear? Chief Delk demoted the head of the Gang Taskforce today."

"He did?" Brenda hadn't heard a thing about that.

"He sure did…" Fritz said evenly. "Worked with the guy for three years."

"Well," Brenda chewed slowly. "Did he deserve it?"

"No one deserves to be demoted like that…the guy's career's over now, he could've just fired him." He shook his head. "You should look out for yourself, Brenda. Who knows what Delk has in store for your squad…"

As if she hadn't thought of that and to top it off, Will probably wouldn't be there to help her out. She wasn't naïve, she just preferred to not think about certain things until they actually happened, and that Will might get fired was one of those.

She poked at her food. "Well, I turned my evaluations in early so he can't fire me over that…"

Fritz sighed. "I don't think you have anything to worry about."

As if. Brenda bit her lip; she had plenty to worry about, Raydor first and foremost. Her thoughts drifted away from the topic at hand and straight to the woman she had just been kissing in her car.

She should ask about El Diablo.

But that would be wrong. It would mean that she was actively looking for a way to make time for Raydor and that wasn't what Brenda had had in mind for this whole thing. Fritz had to come first, Raydor second.

"Maybe they'll retire Provenza," Fritz went on. "I mean, it's time for that anyway but I know he doesn't see it that way."

"I don't see it that way either," Brenda said immediately, upset by the mere suggestion of Provenza going anywhere. "He's, he's, he's important and I need him."

"I know," Fritz nodded. "I know. I don't see it that way either, Brenda but you gotta face reality here. Delk wants to make an impression, let people know he's working on the change he's promised; all I'm saying is that you should prepare for all eventualities."

She really shouldn't ask about El Diablo. "Can we not talk about this over dinner?"

Fritz chewed slower and nodded. "Sure…"

"So, anythin' interestin' happenin' at the FBI?" Brenda asked in a clipped tone. If he mentioned it, she would just roll with it, that was her new strategy.

"Nah…why?"

The blonde schooled her features. "Just askin'."

* * *

He hadn't said anything which meant, Brenda concluded, that Fritz had no interest in busting that El Diablo fella. Or maybe he had no idea.

What seemed more plausible however was that Fritz knew about it but didn't say anything.

Brenda shampooed her hair more aggressively than was necessary, counting the days until she could finally meet Raydor. If Fritz didn't leave now then that left her with very little opportunities.

It was December soon and then the whole Christmas hullabaloo would start. Her parents had already announced that they would want to spend Christmas in Los Angeles, so there was that. And then the new year would begin and work would be nuts.

A month. More than a month. Brenda didn't think she could make it that long.

She wondered how she would get through this without being consumed by her desire because Raydor had been right when she had said that it was different now that she had changed her mind. They were one step closer to what they both wanted, it was within reach and that made it all the more harder to wait.

One month.

Brenda groaned.

One month. She won't be thinking about anything else for all of Christmas and New Year's!

The blonde's lip quivered and she leaned back against the tiles to try to collect herself.

Why wouldn't Fritz just leave? He would benefit from it too, Brenda thought, he would get his wife back, all pieces intact and not all over the place for a change. The blonde stepped back under the hot spray and closed her eyes. _One freakin' month!_

Brenda whimpered; how in the world was she supposed to make it through a whole month?

She turned off the faucet and stood for a moment, unmoving, as the chill crept over her. Water dripped from her hair, the only real sound in the bathroom. Brenda blinked, stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, desperately trying to not blame Fritz for this.

She would just have to be patient. She could do it. It was just a month, not like the year Raydor and her, mostly her, had wasted. One month wasn't that awfully long a time however that didn't really change the fact that Brenda preferred having things right away but who didn't?

"Are you mad at me about something?"

Brenda halted in the bedroom, still toweling her hair. She looked at Fritz, she wasn't mad at him but rather mad at the situation as a whole. "No…" She went into the kitchen and took the ice cream out of the freezer.

"Well, what's the matter? You barely talked to me over dinner then you didn't say a single word while we were watching TV and now you won't even look at me…"

Brenda turned, so he had noticed something after all. Satisfied, she put two scoops of ice cream into a bowl. "Nothing's the matter…I've just been having a hard day, is all."

"A hard day doing reports?"

"You know how much I hate doin' those…" She put the ice cream back into the freezer under Fritz's watchful gaze. "I'm just havin' a bad day, everyone does sometimes."

"Well," Fritz raised his eyebrows as she passed him with the ice cream. "You've been off for days now."

"I have not!"

"Yes, you have!"

"Will's not at work and everybody's callin' me, what am I s'posed to do?"

"This is not about Will."

Brenda scoffed and plopped down on the bed with her ice cream and said, spoon halfway to her lips, "I have not been off, I've just been wonderin' when you were gonna tell me about that El Diablo thing."

Fritz faltered for a moment, thrown off by the sudden change in topic. "I wasn't ever going to tell you because that's classified information which begs the question how you even know about it?"

Nibbling on the spoon and rolling her eyes in a most annoyed manner, Brenda gave him a nonchalant shrug before she answered. "Well, y'all should check for leaks is what I'm suggestin'."

"Leaks?"

"I just heard, okay? And I was just wonderin' why you wouldn't tell me about it, you were after the guy for so long…"

Fritz plopped down on the bed also and sighed. "He's gonna meet with some drugs and weapons guys at his secret house that he thinks we don't know about and we just got ears in the place…it's a huge operation that couldn't only bring El Diablo down but also some of the most prolific drug traffickers and gun smugglers here in America."

Brenda stilled for a moment, impressed then ate a spoonful of ice cream, terrified by the fact that she had just done what she had vowed she wouldn't. It had just burst out of her like that; clearly, she was out of control.

"Mainly, I didn't say anything because it's classified but I also know that it's been tough for you lately, you've been taking a lot of heat, Delk's up your ass and Pope's doing a less than stellar job right now, giving you even more to worry about…"

What an awful, awful person she was…

"And with the whole Chief thing-"

"It's fine," Brenda interrupted, for some reason unable to hear all that even one more time without throwing things. "It's fine, okay? I didn't even really wanna be Chief in the first place."

"But still, not getting the job is making things difficult for you right now."

"I know but it's not that bad…I can deal with it on my own and I'd feel awful knowing I was in your way like that…" She sighed and put the bowl down. "I want you to go." She meant it, she really meant it. "You should go, it's your arrest."

"You sure?"

Brenda nodded. "I am, I am."

Fritz looked at her for a moment longer then he smiled. "Well, looks like I'm finally going to nail him." He kissed her gently, yet with a certain excitement to it and grinned. "The whole thing goes down next week, starting Wednesday," he kissed her again, grinning wider.

"Wednesday?" Brenda asked, her voice doing funny things.

"Wednesday," Fritz nodded. "I can't wait."

Neither can I, Brenda thought then pressed her lips to Fritz's so he couldn't see the slightly panicked look on her face. Wednesday! A couple minutes ago she had tried to prepare to wait for a month and now she was supposed to deal with a mere couple of days?

Wednesday.

Brenda sighed into the kiss, knowing her lips were tasting sweet.

Wednesday! She would have Raydor by Wednesday. Brenda couldn't actually believe it. Her insides turned warm, she felt the excitement in her lower belly right before she turned to goo; Brenda was right back on the cloud she had floated upon earlier.

She pulled on Fritz's shirt, almost tearing it off him while she tried not to laugh hysterically. She couldn't wait to start planning the whole thing. They would have to meet, of course, Brenda especially looked forward to that; they would have to meet and plan all the details, together.

Fritz had shoved her satin slip up and Brenda, barely able to contain herself, offered her breasts up to him.

Wednesday!

She sighed as his warm lips engulfed her nipple. Unbelievable! She would be able to spend a lot of time kissing Raydor for a change without having to worry about anything. They could kiss and kiss and kiss for as long as they wanted.

And she would finally be able to touch the woman, all of her and finally let Raydor touch her like she had imagined so many times before. Brenda still could not believe that soon she would have Raydor in her arms, all to herself, that soon she would be able to cradle the woman's naked body between her legs. Brenda moaned at the thought.

"Mmm…"

Brenda wove her fingers through Fritz's hair and pushed on his shoulder with the other. He lifted an amused eyebrow at her over-eagerness before he kissed his way down her body and disappeared between her parted thighs.

Finally, Brenda thought, on Wednesday she would have her Captain Raydor.

* * *

"Anythin' on TV tonight?"

Fritz looked up from his very comfortable looking position on the couch and stretched, having worked on his laptop for a while by then. "Not really…wanna get some movies to watch or spend the evening doing a documentary marathon?"

Brenda shrugged noncommittally and hoisted her purse further up on her shoulder. "Marathon," she decided, not really in the mood for fiction, she preferred reality.

"Where are you going?"

The blonde glanced down at herself, remembering that she had put on her shoes and had grabbed her purse. "Oh, um…I was just plannin' on going to China Town real quick," she made a beeline for her coat, blushing under Fritz's slightly amused gaze.

"China Town, huh?"

"Yes," Brenda said nonchalantly, pulling on her coat. "They have those marshmallow thingies…with the syrup."

"Ah," Fritz didn't even attempt to suppress his grin. "The strawberry ones." He stood, smirking. "How about, after I finish this report, I cook something nice for tonight while you're out hunting for candy?"

"Really?"

"Yeah…" He placed his hands on her arms and rubbed affectionately. "How do you feel about lasagna?"

"Well," Brenda drawled, "I always feel good about that one."

"Lasagna it is," he kissed her on the lips and let go of her, walking in the direction of the kitchen.

"Anything I need to bring?"

Fritz opened the fridge, inspecting its content. "I can make the lasagna a vegetarian…how about a Mexican touch?"

Brenda shrugged to herself as she buttoned her coat up. "You do the cookin', I'll do the shoppin'…" She tilted her head suddenly and added as an afterthought, "Just don't make it too spicy."

"I won't."

"None of those jalapeños, please."

"I got it, Brenda."

"You know I don't like 'em all that much…"

"Yeah, I know, okay? I'm sure we don't even have jalapeños…"

Brenda poked her head into the kitchen. "We don't?"

"No," Fritz said evenly and closed the fridge. "We don't."

"Well…alright then."

"You want a salad to go with the lasagna? If you do, we need, well…salad."

"Okay," Brenda smiled, "I'll see you later…" She put a rather longing kiss upon his lips and grinned as she left the house through the backdoor. The blonde marched to her car, unlocked it, opened the door on the driver's side and got in. She then put her purse on the passenger's seat and started the ignition.

The radio came on and Brenda turned down the volume immediately then backed out of the driveway.

It was a cloudy day yet still sunny in true L.A. fashion.

And next week Fritz would leave.

She drove down the street and stopped at a red light, her mind going blank while her pulse raced in a sudden trace of panic. To soothe herself, Brenda kept reminding herself of the fact that she could still say no, she could still back out of this whole thing if she decided to not go through with it after all.

There was nothing to worry about, she didn't have an affair yet. She could proceed as planned.

Fritz would leave and help make a great arrest, an opportunity he had almost passed up on because of her.

Brenda felt a pang of guilt; Fritz had to pass on a lot of things because of her. Not that Brenda would ever apologize for it or for the decisions Fritz himself had made but she did feel somewhat remorseful at being such a self-centric person.

She knew she wasn't the most giving or the most loving or even the most understanding but she did want Fritz to realize his dreams nonetheless however that proved to be difficult since he was rather busy with taking care of her.

But, no matter, he had chosen her and this life knowing that Brenda loved her job, was married to her job, that he had to make a lot of compromises because of it and that she would probably always make more money than him.

Somehow Brenda had, quite by accident, ended up a rather successful woman. Being accomplished however had been on purpose, after all, you always had your work cut out for you if you wanted to get somewhere, other people seldom did your work for you, or so her daddy had always said.

It was then that Brenda knew that she could not put Raydor off for much longer. Decisions had been made after all, plans had been made but the execution left much to be desired. Whose fault was that? Brenda's; Raydor had been right about that one.

Stopping at yet another red light the blonde felt the guilt once more; she had pushed Fritz into going, she had vowed she would not do that yet she had done so and had justified it by arguing that Fritz deserved it, that it was for him and not for her.

And if her daddy, who had always had his work cut out for him by the military or Willie Rae Johnson, knew what she was doing, he would never speak to her ever again.

Brenda glanced to her right and stared with an eerie sense of fascination down the busy hutong. All these people went about their lives not knowing a thing about her inner turmoil, not knowing of that burning need inside of her that drove her to this. At no point in her life had Brenda ever thought herself capable of even thinking of doing what she and Raydor were planning on doing.

They would all laugh in her face if they knew her reasons. She didn't have a good excuse, just that fire, that want…a sort of longing, she realized. Sadness washed over Brenda and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Why did her mind demand that she break this most important promise? Why did she, when she thought of not having Raydor, feel overcome with dread?

Brenda swallowed, regret sitting, nagging, at the back of her mind for something she hadn't even done yet.

The funny part, the sickly ironic part was that Brenda couldn't think of anything better to wash it away with than one Sharon Raydor.

She blinked, her eyes fixed on the red façade. The color seemed to seep into her slowly but surely, and she decided that this would be the perfect place for a sin.

* * *

"Thank you…bye!" Brenda smiled joyfully at the middle-aged Chinese woman behind the counter, carrying her candy purchase like a prized treasure in need of protection. The woman returned the smile somewhat irritated, probably wondering why a bag of candy would elicit a response of that magnitude.

It wasn't even good candy, it was the cheap kind.

Brenda left the store and realized, as she stepped outside, that she couldn't remember where she had parked the car. She had been in a daze and couldn't remember most of her shopping either. The blonde opened the bag just to make sure she got the marshmallow thingies and didn't forget them in her semi-absent state of mind.

And there was her car!

Relieved, Brenda swayed towards it, still somewhat dazed. She had wandered among the aisles with her mind elsewhere. The uneasy feeling in her belly had eased the more she had thought of Raydor, thought of her hair, her lips, the way she smelled and the way her skin felt. It was like at night, when she couldn't sleep sometimes, plagued by the images of victims, plagued by the guilt of injustice.

She thought of Georgia then. Of peaches, of waffles, of warm and humid air and of how the sun had felt on her skin. L.A. had a different kind of sun that didn't feel the same at all.

Georgia chased away the demons, memories of the past chased away the thoughts of the present.

It should have been surprising but wasn't really, that Raydor did the same for her. Thinking of Raydor let most of her fears and worries evaporate, at least for the moment.

Brenda sighed, the only sound inside her car except for the soft rustling of the plastic bag containing her sweets. Resigning herself to the fact that she wouldn't be thinking of anything but Raydor for at least a little while, Brenda leaned back in her seat and stared straight ahead.

The blonde's mind drifted back to that moment some time ago where they had sat in her office right next to each other, the air crackling between them and how difficult it had been to not lean over, grab a fistful of expensive fabric and pull Raydor against her lips.

Brenda recollected with an almost sick attention to detail how the woman had touched her bare knee and how that simple, small contact had immediately turned Brenda into a wanting, quivering mess. The anticipation right before Raydor's fingertip had touched her skin was all it had taken to ignite a fire in her belly that grew stronger and stronger until she felt a liquid warmth between her legs.

The actual touch had felt like being murdered slowly but surely, strangled to death by her own inability to ask for more, choking on her own thick desire that let her body pulsate and throb over and over, reaching for a release yet never being able to get there.

It hadn't been enough and it never would be.

When Raydor had held her in her arms, had almost touched her in the physically most intimate way Brenda could think of, and she had almost ended up a heap on the floor when her legs had barely managed to keep her up, it still hadn't been enough.

And kissing Raydor in her car, tasting the woman, smelling her, touching her while her mind had turned blank, when there had been nothing, not even want or desire or lust, when it had only been Raydor she had thought, felt and experienced, it still had not been enough.

Brenda reached into the plastic bag and pulled out a candy wrapped in neon-pink.

She knew she would have to sleep with Raydor in order to achieve this feeling of 'enough'.

Slowly she let the wrapper fall from her fingertips then stared at the pink marshmallow in her hand. She bit into it, tasted the artificial strawberry flavor that seemed way better to her than actual strawberries and then there came the gush of sweet, sweet syrup.

_Delicious_.

Brenda leaned back and chewed slowly, reeling at how she could feel the sugar pumping through her system. She closed her eyes, felt the buzz and the piercing, yet not unpleasant sensation of sexual arousal. The blonde pressed her legs together and gave up on fighting the wet warmth between them, instead she reached for her purse and took out her cell phone.

She stared at it for a moment while biting into the marshmallow again.

'Call me.' She typed, hit send and hugged the phone to her belly. She chewed and sighed and imagined she was kissing Raydor. Brenda wondered briefly if she should worry about how completely the woman had overtaken her thoughts, how consumed she was with fantasies of her but before she could actually come to a conclusion, her phone rang.

Brenda didn't need to look, she knew who it was, and if she hadn't had so much sugar just a moment ago she would have panicked. The blonde leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes as she took the call. "Yes?" She simply said.

"Chief…"

Brenda's eyes opened at the voice on the other end, returning somewhat to reality. "Yes…"

Raydor paused for a moment, the irritation evident in the mere way she breathed. "Well…what is it?"

The blonde grinned almost affectionately at the impatient and slightly angry tone she had gotten rather used to. "Can we meet?"

There was a moment of silence then Raydor asked, "When?"

Brenda glanced around. "Now."

The Captain sighed on the other end, annoyed and wanting to say 'no' but unable to. "Fine," she gave in, "…where did you have in mind?"

* * *

Brenda walked into the Mountain Bar with an aura of confidence surrounding her.

Red. The room, just as the exterior was red. Sinfully so. There weren't all that many people yet but enough to create sufficient background noise.

Brenda decided to sit at the bar and not somewhere in the back because, should anyone she knew walk in and see her, she didn't want to look like she was trying to hide something. Sometimes the best hiding place was in plain sight.

She took off her white trench coat that almost seemed to absorb the red light. She draped it over a chair and sat delicately, her legs crossed and one high-heeled foot bobbing up and down gently.

"What can I get you?"

Brenda blinked at the young bartender and said, without thinking, "A glass of Merlot, please." She shouldn't be drinking, she shouldn't go home later and have Fritz smell it on her but Brenda dismissed the thought again, this was her time.

Her drink arrived almost immediately, the glass served with a smile. "Thank you," Brenda said lightly and let her gaze sweep over the place. A young couple kissing caught her eye and the blonde found herself fascinated with the raw passion between them that came with every new romance; emotions all over the place, hearts on sleeves and a whole lot of sex.

Things changed when you got older, you approached a new interest with perhaps a little more prudence and caution or at least one liked to think so. The couple parted for a short moment and Brenda averted her eyes; she sipped on her wine, tasted it and decided that it was to her liking.

She wasn't nervous.

Brenda sipped again. She wasn't nervous at all, on the contrary, she felt oddly at ease, comfortable with the unusual as if a part of her had craved this all along – not just Raydor but this, sitting in a bar, waiting, making phone calls, knowing something others didn't, having secrets.

"Chief…"

The blonde turned slightly, startled and somewhat surprised that she hadn't noticed the woman's arrival but didn't show it, she just smiled.

Raydor had taken off her own trench coat. She wore an almost black jacket and an almost black skirt, underneath was a white shirt that absorbed the red in the room also. Her stiletto heels clicked on the floor, a familiar sound that Brenda couldn't help but find oddly attractive; it spoke of beautiful women and, as far as she was concerned, before her sat her very own modern femme fatal.

Raydor crossed her legs, letting them almost touch hers. They were awfully close like this, closer than in the car even and Brenda couldn't help but let her eyes linger on Raydor's legs; she had the best legs Brenda had ever seen, that much was clear.

"So, Chief, why-"

The blonde looked up. "Don't call me Chief for heaven's sakes…we're just two friends havin' drinks."

"Okay," Raydor said airily, almost rolling her eyes. "Brenda."

The blonde swallowed, not having been prepared for that or the way Raydor said her name. "Do you want a drink?"

"No," the woman answered immediately, looking at her watch. "I don't usually drink and I have to get back to work in half an hour at the latest, so, what is so important that couldn't wait?"

"You're workin' today?"

"An officer discharged his weapon while off duty. Now. What did you want to talk about?"

Brenda opened her mouth but saw the barkeeper approach. She bit her lip, feeling interrupted and intruded upon.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Water," Raydor said without missing a beat then added, "and an espresso, please. Thank you." She turned to Brenda, eyebrows raised impatiently. "Well?"

The blonde blinked at the abruptness and faltered for a moment, getting her thoughts in order. "Uh," she wouldn't mention that she had practically made Fritz leave, a fact that actually did weigh on her conscience. "Fritz has expressed interest in going to that…" she glanced around, "thingy you mentioned."

"Okay…" Raydor said slowly.

"And he'll be away for at least two days next week."

The woman's face seemed frozen. "He will?"

"Yes," Brenda smiled coyly. "Next week Wednesday."

Raydor's face fell. "That's the middle of the week."

"Hold on," the blonde said contritely, her smile gone, "let me call Mr. Diablo real quick and ask him to move his business to Friday since Wednesday seems to be too inconvenient for you."

"Okay, alright," the woman held her hands up in mock-surrender. "Fine. Wednesday it is." Raydor sighed, wanting to say more as the barkeeper approached yet again; the woman plastered a smile on her face as he placed the water and the espresso down before her.

Brenda stared after him as he left, wondering how much he knew, how much he could guess by just the way they looked at one another. Was the raw passion between them just as visible as the one between the young couple across the room?

It didn't matter much, he didn't know her and she would never come here with Fritz. The blonde turned back to Raydor, catching a whiff of her scent in the process and found the woman's eyes glancing down at their touching knees. Brenda breathed in slowly and watched in rapt fascination as Raydor clenched the hand resting on her thigh into a fist to keep from reaching out.

"I will book a hotel room then," Raydor said, her inflection sounding odd when she looked up again.

Brenda just nodded, wondering briefly what the hell she was doing. "Um, okay, well, I think it would be best if we didn't talk 'til then…"

"Agreed." Raydor took a long sip from her water and breathed out slowly.

She seemed jumpy and impatient, Brenda noted and couldn't help but shift in her seat, her leg brushing against Raydor's. Was it deliberate? Brenda didn't know, not that it mattered anyway.

"I'll write you a message with the hotel and room number on Wednesday around eight-"

"Okay."

"—and if there should arise any problems or complications, I suggest we only communicate at work from now on. If we dial each other's extensions it won't show up anywhere."

Brenda smiled a bit – she was quite efficient, her Captain Raydor.

The woman took a swig of her espresso, almost emptying it and then said, staring off into the distance. "I can't believe that this is actually going to happen…"

Brenda did what Raydor had wanted to and reached out, putting her hand delicately upon the woman's knee. "Neither can I…" She grinned coyly.

Raydor swallowed and pursed her lips, hyper-aware of the touch and let her fingertips slowly brush Brenda's. They stared at one another, the air surrounding them turning heavier with each passing moment. Raydor shifted, her leg rubbing against the blonde's so carefully that anyone who wasn't Brenda wouldn't have noticed it.

Maybe there was a bathroom they could go to, the blonde thought, maybe they could go to her car, maybe they could hide somewhere in a dark corner or, or, or—

They separated as a new customer entered.

Raydor cleared her throat and slid off the chair without much further ado.

"…this one's on me," Brenda murmured, captivated by the woman.

"Okay," The Captain slid into her coat and added, almost as an afterthought, "thank you." She brushed her hair back behind her ear. "I'll see you Wednesday."

The blonde nodded, sucking on her lower lip. "Bye," she said.

Raydor didn't respond but leaned in. She halted briefly, her hand coming to rest gently on Brenda's knee, before she kissed the blonde on the cheek, close to her mouth and lingered for a moment longer than was appropriate for friends. She drew back slowly, a smirk playing around her lips as she admired the spreading blush. "Goodbye, Brenda…"

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Spoilers: Mild ones for S01E02 "About Face" and S02E07 "Head over Heels".**

**A/N: Okay, here it is. I hope you guys won't be mad at me for how this chapter ends but this has only been the 'chocolate part', next week you'll get 'sugar'...and that kinda sounds suggestive, which was not what I intended.**

**rebakathy: **I love awkward Raydor, it's so rare - Brenda on the other hand does awkward rather frequently. But, planning an affair is weird, right? At least it's not like lesbian bed death or anything...**  
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**ithinkyourewonderful: **Tangled webs, I'd love to say it's my specialty but I seriously haven't ever written anything like this before. Anyway, I hope you like this one and won't be disappointed. **  
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**I-Love-Capn-Raydor: **Okay, I can sympathize with you...having a great book and then losing it over and over would be torturous and I'm sorry for being mean ;) I hope this chapter helps a little, just be patient til next week (not that you grasp the concept of patience :P) but try to not die, okay? That would be awful and I'd miss your awesome feedback.**  
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**tenearthimps: **Grr, sorry :P I contemplated posting Wednesday but then I would've been so behind on the next chapters. Hope you like this one and that it makes up for the long wait somewhat...**  
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**Tiger87: **First of all, yay Leisha! New album soon, right? Anyway, thanks for reading and for leaving a comment, it helps keep the juices flowing...**  
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**KDTB: **Brenda seems like the kind of person that gets lost in the details a lot...so I thought why not have her go at the whole affair thing like she's going at an interview. Was really fun to write that actually, uh huh. **  
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**Akiha-chan: **Great to have another one on board - this fandom needs to be huge! I'm having high hopes for our lady cops, yep. You like my Raydor? Great, I'm always worried that I'm making her into something she's not...**  
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**Sandruschka: **Erstens, ich laube, das geht schon in Ordnung mit der deutschen Review, außerdem freue ich mich auch mal wieder Deutsch zu lesen, das bekommt man ja nicht oft im größtenteils englischsprachigen Internet. Zweitens, nur nicht schüchtern sein, bin ganz lieb und beiße nur selten :) Freut mich, dass du doch noch Feedback hinterlassen hast, das hilft nämlich wirklich beim Schreiben. So, hoffe, dass dir das "Sex-Kapitel" gefallen hat und dass du auch schon gefasst bist aufs nächste. LG zurück :)**  
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**godoggo: **I don't know what it is about this pairing but somehow a lot of Germans end up reading it. Hmm. Well, here's a lot more touching, very little talking and almost no thinking, I hope you like it :P As for the Sharon-mystery, you're right about that, it's been very deliberate. Not because I'm lazy but because I thought it would be intriguing to get to know her through Brenda's eyes. Honestly, I don't know much about Raydor yet either, there's some stuff I've already outlined for her though. Just so you know, I'm planning on writing a Sharon chapter in the future, I've already started it and it's all from her perspective. We'll get to know her a little better in it but I don't want to just throw her whole life story out there. Anyway, it's awesome of you to notice such things and thank you so much for your amazing reviews :)**  
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**CaityBeloved: **It was kinda sad to write this chapter actually :P Kinda pathetic, isn't it? But, this story is far from finished, which was the thought I kept consoling myself with...**  
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**tayryn: **See? No interferences :P I hope you like the chapter - I'm a little nervous, ha.

Well. I'm not gonna babble now and just let you read but, one thing, as always you guys, thank you so, so much for the encouragement and the wonderful reviews, you truly rock!

**Chapter Twenty:**

Chocolate

**Monday:**

_Slurp…slurp…slurp, slurp, slurp._

Brenda nibbled on the straw one last time before accepting the fact that the cup was empty. No matter, her mind was already on other things, distracted by the silky, soft material of the bra she was currently contemplating of buying.

It was black with cream colored embroidery, something she would usually get. Yesterday evening, before going to bed, Brenda had gone through her underwear drawer in search of the perfect bra and the perfect panties for Wednesday only to realize that Fritz had already seen all of it and that it would somehow feel odd to give Raydor what her husband had had before.

Brenda tilted her head to the side – she should try something else for a change, go with something more risky. Perhaps she should try purple…violet…lavender.

The blonde grinned and caressed one such exemplar with her fingertips.

"S'cuse me, may I help you?"

Brenda turned and blinked at the woman smiling at her rather helpfully. "Um…" The blonde glanced back then came to the decision to accept, seeing as the salesperson seemed to wear Raydor-ish things and might channel her tastes. "I'm lookin' for somethin'…" She bit her lip. "Sexy."

The woman grinned. "Something to surprise your husband with?"

Brenda covered her ring with the other hand, her fingers dancing over it. "Um…I was thinking purple, it's…it's his favorite color."

"It is?"

"Yes." Brenda plastered a smile onto her face. "Yes, it is."

"Well," the woman said slowly, her name was Rachel as it so happened, and moved to the bras Brenda had just examined. "You look like you can wear pretty much any color you like but…I think it would be best to stay away from too dark a color, seeing as you're a bit pale…which goes wonderfully with pastels and bright colors."

"Really?" Brenda asked; she hadn't thought of that, she hadn't thought of that all.

"Oh, yeah. What do you think about turquoise applications? Or pink?"

"Pink?"

"Uh huh, very cute."

"No, no, no, no…nothin' cute." Brenda searched for words. "I'm lookin' for…um…powerful, smart and sexy." The sentence came back to her and she could practically hear Raydor's voice as she said it.

"Okay. We can do that," Rachel grinned. "Let's go back over there…it's where we have the dangerous stuff," she whispered conspiringly and led Brenda away.

* * *

**Tuesday:**

Would it be silly to dress up?

Would it be silly to show up there in one of her usual attires? Or in her off-work, casual clothes?

What would Raydor do?

Brenda rolled her eyes; Raydor was always immaculately dressed and she could attend almost any function or event and never be terribly out of place. She would dress up for this occasion, the blonde just knew it, but she wouldn't go over the top, make it so she didn't look too obvious. Well, screw that, Brenda thought and took her red dress out of the closet.

Raydor had liked it that one time she had worn it to the interview with the mayor and later their shared dinner. The woman had complimented her on it, she hadn't said much of course, which had been somewhat disappointing but Brenda had known.

She should wear it, walk up to the hotel room door, knock and then all she had to do was to gleefully bask in Raydor's lusty expression. The woman would salivate over her, that was for sure, and drag her into the room and then have her way with the blonde.

Yep, Brenda thought, grinning coyly at her own reflection, Raydor would tear that dress right off her.

The blonde twirled around, holding the beautiful dress to her body.

On second thought, maybe she shouldn't wear it – what if they ruined the dress? That would be awful. There wasn't another one like it and if it suddenly went missing, Fritz would wonder what the hell happened to it. Besides, her parents had bought it for her...and Raydor had seen it already.

Sullenly Brenda went back into her walk-in closet and put the red dress back in its place.

She still had the midnight blue number but Brenda worried that it might be slightly outdated and Raydor, who held nothing of her vintage look or her try at it, would surely notice. The funeral-slash-official function black dress was nice, very professional and somewhat sexy but Brenda didn't want to go with somewhat sexy but rather with mind-blowingly hot.

She pictured herself as more of a seductress in this whole scenario and that dress just wouldn't cut it.

_Shoot_.

Brenda looked at her assortment and contemplated going out and buying a dress for the occasion but immediately tried to talk herself out of that particular idea. That was nuts and she had made herself promise to not go over the top.

She had already bought the new underwear, that had to be enough.

Her eyes scanned the space again. Brenda then even went so far as to contemplate wearing that 50s hoop-skirt.

Awful, terrible, unacceptable.

No. Just no. Besides, she had no idea where it had come from.

Then, quite by accident, Brenda brushed against another plastic wrap somewhere in the back which immediately triggered a memory. Six years ago, dinner with Fritz.

She pulled the plastic encased dress out and looked it over; she had vowed to bring it back that day she had also gotten the red one but hadn't been able to part with it. On one hand it had somehow made her feel self-conscious since everybody had kept looking her over, thinking what a beautiful woman was under that usually rather bland exterior. Brenda had hated those glances but hadn't let it show, it was also why she hadn't worn the dress ever again.

On the other hand, it was a pretty sexy and beautiful dress.

And it had never been on a date with Fritz, just dinner, but not a date, which was, in Brenda's opinion, a huge bonus.

The blonde unwrapped the dress carefully and grinned with glee. She held it against her body carefully and stepped in front of the mirror; it was black, clean cut, showed a lot of cleavage and enough leg to make it look sultry yet not cheap.

_Raydor will love it._

"You have a hot date while I'm outta town?"

Brenda jumped almost out of her skin as Fritz came through the bedroom door, smirking.

"Noooo," she should've laughed or at least grinned but Brenda couldn't bring herself to, "of course not...I was just...thinking of throwing some of my stuff out, give some to goodwill." She gestured at her closet. "It's gettin' a little crowded in there, init?"

"That's what I've been saying for how long now?" He kissed her on the head and went into the bathroom. "But you better not get rid of that dress. I think it's the sexiest number you have, which begs the question: why are you not wearing it every day?"

Brenda snorted, suddenly rather pleased with her choice. "If I did that it wouldn't be special anymore."

"I've seen you naked so often and it's still special. You could be naked for the better part of the day and I still wouldn't get enough of that."

"Very funny!" She rewrapped the dress and hung it next to the red one, a dreamy expression on her face.

"Hey," Fritz poked his head in. "Your phone's vibrating but I wouldn't answer that if I were you."

"Why's that?" Brenda stared at the phone he held in his hand.

"I've got Chinese takeout in the kitchen."

"Oh," the blonde blinked. "Well, who is it?"

"Detective Gabriel."

She tried to say nothing but found that she couldn't. "It could be important."

"It's always important when Gabriel calls because it means somebody's dead and you have to run out the door to the crime scene," he said evenly.

"Now look what you did!" Brenda snatched the phone out of his hand. "He hung up and now I have to call him back." She snaked around him and hit speed dial. By the time Fritz had turned around, Brenda had the phone already pressed against her ear. "Yes, Detective, what is it? Really? Oh, that sounds bad..." She glanced at Fritz. "Just awful."

* * *

**Wednesday:**

"Brenda…"

"Mmm…"

"Breeeenda."

A deep sigh. "Hm?"

"Brenda? It's 4.30, I gotta leave now."

The blonde opened her eyes slowly and leaned on her elbows. "It's 4.30 already?"

"Just go back to sleep…you only came in three hours ago," he said gently, glancing at his wrist watch. "C'mon, lay down…"

Brenda slumped back onto the mattress, burying her face in her pillow. "You have fun arrestin' that Diablo fella, okay?"

Fritz grinned and caressed her hair gently. "I will." He stood slowly and nodded to himself. "See you Friday."

"Hmm…"

He shook his head, a small smile playing around his lips as he grabbed the bag he had packed and made to leave for the airport, the door closing quietly behind him.

He then proceeded to his car, threw his bag on the back seat and got in. As he started the ignition, the CD player came on but Fritz turned down the volume as he backed out of the driveway.

He drove slowly down the street, glanced in the rearview mirror and made a left turn, leaving the house behind him.

Brenda opened her eyes.

She breathed in slowly and hugged her pillow.

It was Wednesday.

The blonde scooted to the edge of the mattress without ever getting into an upright position and opened the drawer of her nightstand where she had hidden the Wonka chocolate bar that she had taken home from work that morning just for this very occasion.

Brenda closed her eyes as she tore at the wrapping, too tired to bear seeing anything. She drew her knees up until she was curled into a fetal position and then took her first bite out of the chocolate.

It was good. Very good.

Brenda chewed slowly, her mind drifting.

She bit in again and turned onto her back while she chewed at the enormous piece of chocolate in her mouth.

It was Wednesday.

She bit off another chunk and chewed slower until her jaw ceased moving. She sucked on the huge, melted lump of chocolate in her mouth and fell asleep.

* * *

"Meow…"

Brenda's eyes flew open again and she stared at Joel who had jumped up onto the bed and was licking at what was left of the Wonka bar that lay abandoned on the mattress, leaving a little stain.

"No! Shoo, you're not s'posed to eat that, Joel, it's bad for you!" She grabbed the now rather big cat and sat him down in her lap. "That was mine," she said, holding the Wonka bar between thumb and forefinger. "I was still gonna eat that…" Her eyes caressed the chocolate, her face slowly transforming into a grimace.

She glanced down at Joel who had started cleaning himself. "Bad cat, bad, bad, bad!" Scoffing at Joel's indifference, Brenda got out of bed and padded into the kitchen where she deposited of the chocolate even though it physically hurt her to drop it into the trash can.

The blonde started the coffee maker and leaned onto the kitchen aisle, watching it do its work then glanced at the clock.

"Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no!" Brenda raced into the bedroom and opened her closet. Her eyes lingered on the black dress briefly then darted about the small space. What was she going to wear? She pulled out a floral dress, she could always go with that then pulled out a turquoise little jacket she could wear over the dress.

That would have to do.

The doorbell rang.

"Oh, no…" Brenda raced to the front door and yanked it open. "I'm sorry, Detective, I'm _so_ late!" She looked down at herself, realizing that she was standing before Detective Gabriel in her pajamas. "Please, just come on in, coffee's brewin', just sit down in the kitchen, why don't ya?"

Gabriel's eyes traveled up and down her body. "Um, sure, Chief. Take your time…"

"So," he asked about twenty minutes later while in the car, still eyeing her unfortunate choice of attire. "Have you…had breakfast yet?"

Brenda glanced up from the files he had brought along and squinted at him from behind her reading glasses. "No, why?" He stomach growled quietly.

"Just, y'know," he started nonchalantly, "You get kinda grumpy when you don't eat, Chief, and you really don't wanna be grumpy when we talk to that Matthews guy."

The blonde glared mildly. "You mean, _you_ don't want me to be grumpy when we're talkin' to that…pompous, self-satisfied little man."

Gabriel suppressed a grin and nodded instead. "You've been workin' all night, Chief, and you really need to keep your blood sugar levels up, right?"

He handed her the perfect excuse, that's how well he knew her. "Well," Brenda drawled, "alright then. Let's have breakfast first."

"All right. What are you in the mood for?"

Brenda grinned. "How 'bout the best French toast in town?"

* * *

She hadn't come here for a long time since the place held rather bad memories for her but Brenda felt like she could get over it now, especially since she really needed that French toast.

Daniels was gone, she had also given Gabriel the cold shoulder for a very long time and it seemed that he had learned his lesson…it just so happened that Brenda was about to do something similarly stupid with Raydor.

Except, of course, that they weren't in love.

Gabriel held the door open for her and Brenda remembered how he had done the same thing that morning some years ago when he had told her of dating Daniels. The blonde pushed the thought aside and made for a nice little booth.

"Haven't been here in a while," Gabriel commented as they sat.

"Neither have I."

"The whole head thing kinda ruined the place, right?"

Brenda blinked. "What head thing?"

"When we found the head…" Gabriel said slowly. "In the dumpster?"

It slowly came back. "Right, that…well, I think I'm still goin' with the French toast, what are you gonna have, Detective?"

David narrowed his eyes at her yet didn't comment on her total lack of empathy. "Uh…I think I'm gonna go with the French toast too, Chief."

"Great," Brenda's eyes gleamed, "let's order." Brenda couldn't wait to get her hands on it but it occurred to her, once she had already ordered, that eating French toast wasn't such a good idea after all; she shouldn't put on needless pounds before her night with Raydor.

But then again, she wouldn't be gaining any in one day, that was silly, besides, she could only be at her best with lots and lots of sugar in her system to calm her raging nerves. In order to achieve that very goal, the blonde poured the whole can of syrup on the toast once it sat in front of her, drowning the strawberries and the sugar in it.

She noticed Gabriel's stare and was sure he had been staring for much longer than she had realized but her mind forbade her to focus on anything other than this, her French toast because if she let her thoughts drift, they may very well end up on Raydor.

Brenda almost dropped her knife then cut into the bread. She was halfway through the first slice when Gabriel spoke up from across the table. "So," he said nonchalantly yet doing a miserable job. "How's Fritz? Uh…I mean, Agent Howard?"

The blonde lifted her eyebrows at him. "Subtle, Detective, very subtle." She put another piece of toast in her mouth, momentarily closing her eyes then mumbled, "He's away on FBI business, I can't say what, it's classified." She chewed. "You were right, this is the best French toast in town." She had secretly tried his but wouldn't divulge that tidbit of information even if her life depended on it.

"Uh…so, how are things with Delk? I heard he calls all the time."

Brenda swallowed and stared at him for a moment, noticing the barely touched food on his plate. "Alright, Detective, what's the matter?"

"Nothing, Chief," he screeched like a little girl. "I was just wondering how-"

"Oh, please," she interrupted, "What did they ask you to find out?"

David sighed and shook his head. "Well, we were talking the other day-"

"The whole squad?"

"Yeah-"

"Behind my back?"

"Chief." Gabriel leaned forward in his seat. "We get it, okay? It's been a rough couple months with the whole Chief-thing-"

"If everyone just stopped bringin' that up I'd feel tons better," she mumbled under her breath.

"And Delk breathing down your neck…and Chief Pope, well, he's not doing such a great job right now."

Brenda rolled her eyes a little, not angry or annoyed but worried about their concern; they had noticed something off, they just didn't know what it was.

"We were just wondering if there was anything we could help with?"

The blonde's expression softened and she patted him on the arm. "No, Detective. Y'all just do your jobs like always and everythin' will be just fine, okay?"

David squinted at her. "Are you sure?"

"Course I am." She smiled and looked down at her plate; they had noticed. Had she been that obvious? Brenda pulled herself together; maybe she had been a little distracted lately. She suddenly lost all appetite yet couldn't help but crave the sugar; she needed it now more than she had needed it in quite some time.

She looked up. "D'you think they have chocolate sauce, too?"

* * *

She had the dress, the shoes, the purse, the lingerie and the shade of her lipstick.

Brenda sat fully dressed on her bed, holding her cell phone. Her heart had been beating wildly for the better part of the evening and the blonde worried that if it didn't return to a normal beat, she would drop dead within the hour.

She nibbled on her lip then reminded herself that she had to be mindful of the lipstick then she smelled on herself again, checking her perfume.

The blonde glanced at the clock on her cell phone again; it was 7.58.

She had spoken to Fritz earlier but only briefly, he didn't have much time to chat since he was sitting in some van, on some street, somewhere in this country.

Brenda had no idea where he was but judging from the duration of his flight, he was somewhere on the east coast. Probably Florida, she deduced.

Brenda lifted the cell phone again and found, to her dismay, that it was still 7.58.

She couldn't sit here and drive herself crazy, the blonde decided and stood. She checked her purse again; she had chosen a nice small one for this occasion, black, and Chanel vintage which went perfectly with her shoes.

Brenda had decided to only take the most necessary things with her which entailed her wallet, some make-up and a set of panties. The blonde blushed as she saw them.

And then her phone vibrated.

Brenda dropped her purse and stared at the phone; one new message. She held her breath. 7.59. 8.00.

_Palomar. 10740 Wilshire Boulevard. Room 257._

She breathed in and out shallowly and read over the message again. She didn't hear anything, felt her knees wobble, tunnel vision; Brenda took a large breath, realizing that if she didn't fight the early symptoms, she would pass out.

The Palomar hotel was all the way out in Westwood, she thought sullenly and picked up her purse, startled as her phone vibrated again.

_Do not take Santa Monica._

Well, Brenda thought contritely, leave it to Raydor to try to boss her around via text messaging.

Rolling her eyes and throwing her cell phone into her purse, Brenda checked herself over in the mirror one last time. Her make-up was perfect, her dress hugged her body like a second skin, showing off her attributes. She had a great hair day and had taken a lot of time to put every strand into place.

For a moment the image of herself disappeared and the evening played out before her in her mind's eye. Her hair in disarray, her lipstick smeared and mostly gone, half naked, the dress on the floor.

Brenda swallowed and exhaled slowly.

She was as ready as she was gonna get…

* * *

Releasing a heavy breath and inhaling deeply immediately thereafter, Brenda raised her hand to knock on the door that she didn't dare look at. Her eyes stayed trained on the floor, on her feet that felt so heavy all of a sudden. She smoothed her dress down for the umpteenth time and adjusted the coat she had draped over her arm. She had worn it on her way to the hotel and had taken off in the elevator just so she could immediately show off her dress.

As she waited those endless seeming moments, Brenda thought that, even through the closed door, she could sense the woman's presence. She must imagine it, the blonde was certain, because it had to be impossible to smell Raydor out here in the hallway.

The door swung open slowly, it creaked a bit toward the end and there stood Raydor, one hand on the doorframe, the other on the door itself. She wore her glasses, the ones she always seemed to hide behind and her hair looked less in place than usual, freer somehow and Brenda imagined Raydor standing in front of the mirror, fussing with her hair to maybe make herself look more appealing for the blonde.

Raydor opened the door fully after seconds of complete and utter silence she stepped aside, inviting Brenda in.

Brenda went, just two steps and in she was, surprised at how easy it had truly been. One would expect to feel a certain difficulty when making such an important, probably life-altering step, yet there was nothing, absolutely nothing.

Maybe Brenda had made this decision a long time ago already. Maybe she had made it the moment Brenda had allowed herself to feel the thrill and excitement of the attraction they shared, when she had allowed herself to indulge in her very first fantasy about the woman, when she had wallowed in her desire and hadn't felt guilty.

As Raydor closed the door she put the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the knob, trying to be discreet about it which only made it less so.

Brenda tried a smile and failed miserably.

She opted for looking around and inspecting the room instead. It was very stylish and clean, very expensive looking – probably two hundred a night, Brenda couldn't be sure.

Very sophisticated, very tasteful. The blonde felt oddly comforted by the fact that Raydor had chosen sophisticated and tasteful in place of sordid and cheap.

"I ordered a bottle of wine and something to eat, if you're interested…"

Brenda spun around, unsure of what to say for a moment. "Um…you didn't…have to…" She said slowly as the woman, of whom she had to stop thinking of as 'Raydor' and start thinking of as 'Sharon', swept past her towards the big picture windows that provided a lovely view of Los Angeles. She halted next to the chaise longue and looked expectantly, and somewhat hopeful, at Brenda.

Please, come here and don't make me do all this on my own, her eyes said and Brenda couldn't ignore a plea like that. She came closer slowly, draped her coat over the backrest of a chair and sat delicately after a moment of uncertainty. Raydor…Sharon took her purse immediately and sat it down on the overstuffed chair which made Brenda wonder where the woman would sit.

A completely superfluous question seeing as the only space left was the one right beside her.

Sharon sat close to her yet didn't even so much as glance at her, she poured the wine instead with far more concentration than was necessary. It was a Merlot. As Sharon handed her one of the glasses, Brenda realized that she had never seen the woman so out of her element. "I thought you didn't drink," she said with a hint of an accusation in her voice just because she knew she could get away with it this time.

"I did not say that," Sharon responded, "I only said that I didn't indulge in alcoholic beverages very often."

Brenda glanced away and Sharon glanced about the room

"Well," the blonde drawled finally, "yet here you are, about to indulge." She tapped the glass with her fingernail. "Are you only doin' this because I said I didn't just wanna hop into bed with you?"

This time Sharon did look at her but with a steely gaze that penetrated all of Brenda's defenses. "I thought that this is what you want."

The blonde sucked her lower lip in then an embarrassed smile curved her lips upwards and she tucked her hair behind her ear as she stared into the dark-red depths of her wine glass. "I have no idea what I want," she drawled, blushing.

Sharon sighed next to her. "But I do."

"And what's that?"

The brunette clinked their glasses together. "I want to indulge in a glass of Merlot…" As her lips touched the rim of the glass, Brenda brought hers to her lips also and took a generous sip. She watched, synced their movements and the buzz was almost instantaneous; the velvety texture of the wine, the hint of plum, a delicious mixture Brenda was all too familiar with and enjoyed left her humming in appreciation.

When she opened her eyes, which she hadn't noticed she had closed, Sharon was studying her intently, a small, easy smile gracing her features. "I'm going to be honest with you." She paused, her eyes narrowed in feigned seriousness and a lazy smirk dancing about her lips. "I don't want to just hop into bed with you either." She blinked at Brenda then her eyes wandered until she was staring into the distance.

"I rarely indulge but when I do, I like to draw it out and enjoy it to its fullest." Her smile widened imperceptibly and her voice dropped, adopting a velvety timbre. "I like being thorough." Her gaze returned to Brenda. "And I like prolonging it."

The look Sharon gave her made Brenda wonder about which she was talking – the wine…or sex? "So…I'm an indulgence..?" The blonde let her fingertips dance over the rim of her glass, her heart beating wildly now.

"Hmm," Sharon hummed, "yes…" She tilted her head and put her glass on the coffee table. "Speaking of, I have something for you."

"My," Brenda drawled as she watched the brunette pick up a small silver platter from the bedside table. "You don't do anythin' halfway, do ya?"

"What would be the purpose of that?" Sharon wondered immediately while she sat down. She took off the lid and presented Brenda with two Ding Dongs that sat nicely arranged in the middle of the platter.

The blonde bit her lip as a moan bubbled up within her at the mere sight. She glanced up at Sharon through thick eyelashes and realized, staring at the Ding Dongs of all things that the one thing she had wanted for what seemed like the longest time, was finally within reach. She could have her now, her Captain Raydor, just like that.

They already sat closer together than they would ever have dared before, they shared the same air, felt each other's body heat, their knees were touching and their gazes were unashamedly lingering.

"Want one?" Sharon husked.

Brenda swallowed heavily and licked her lip. "I shouldn't," she said quickly.

"You sure?"

"No, yes, yes, I'm…sure."

Sharon raised an eyebrow at her while setting the platter down on the table after which she did the unthinkable; she took one of the Ding Dongs and started unwrapping it quite provocatively. "Let's see," she murmured while studying the chocolaty cake.

Brenda's eyes widened as the brunette's lips touched the chocolate, as they molded together, as she bit into it. The blonde swallowed heavily again and watched in quiet fascination as Sharon licked her lips and hummed in pleasure. "Delicious…"

"I know," Brenda mumbled, her eyes glazing over. How in the world had Raydor…Sharon figured that one out? On top of that she was doing it all wrong. You didn't leave half the wrapping around the cake, that ruined one of the best parts – licking the chocolate from the fingers when you were done.

Before the blonde realized what she was doing, she had reached out and grasped Sharon's wrist.

Then she slowly brought a fingertip to the Ding Dong and gathered some of the fluffy, sweet filling on it. Sharon watched as the fingertip disappeared between her lips.

"Mmm," Brenda moaned as her eyes closed involuntarily. "…perfect." She bestowed a truly smoldering look upon Sharon as she guided her hand closer until she was able to indulge a little as well. She bit into the cake, the chocolate melted against her lips and Brenda right along with it. Delicious didn't even come close to describing how good this was.

Good and terribly exciting because, usually, she wouldn't let anyone participate in this little ritual of hers; no one was supposed to see what chocolate could do to her. Her fingertips trailed upwards slowly, along the back of Sharon's hand, caressing her, until she was covering it almost entirely.

And then she took the Ding Dong, just the cake, not the wrapping, and smirked cockily at the brunette.

Sharon's eyes twinkled, her expression more challenging than amused, as she dipped her fingertip into the soft filling. "You're impossible," she murmured absent-mindedly right before she licked the cream off her fingertip.

Brenda just watched, feeling like a voyeur; if she were any other person, somebody who didn't get sexually aroused by chocolate, this whole spectacle wouldn't have meant anything or very little but if Sharon considered this foreplay then she was indeed very good at it and knew exactly with what sort of person she was dealing with.

It was an omen, the manifestation of her dream, as a small speck, a small little drop of fluffy, sugary, creamy goodness caught on Sharon's upper lip. Brenda felt every bit of resistance she may have still possessed give way under the heavy pounding of her desire.

It was then that the Ding Dong tumbled from her fingertips and fell to the floor.

She reached out, the tip of her finger tracing over Sharon's lips, coating them with a hint of melted chocolate.

Brenda had thought of this moment for a long time, she had thought of it so often in the past few days that she couldn't actually be sure that this was reality and not something her overactive imagination had come up with.

She scooted closer, so close that their breaths were mingling then she took off Sharon's glasses and put them on the table.

No more hiding. No more games.

Brenda stared into Sharon's eyes, she had always found them to be the most expressive thing about her. And her lips, Brenda had thought about those lips countless of times. Their shape, their color, how they felt, how they tasted, how they looked when they formed her name.

She was afraid now and wondered briefly if she really wanted this after all because soon she wouldn't be able to back out of the whole thing anymore.

Staring at the woman, feeling her hand settle onto her thigh and how the touch slowly burned through the material of Brenda's dress, breathing her in, feeling her fingertips on her skin, the warmth of her body, the smell of her hair, the shape of her silhouette, the size of her breasts, the prospect of having Sharon's hands touch every inch of her body…

Brenda kissed Sharon's upper lip first, she could still taste the sugary cream filling and then she drew her lower lip between her own, savoring the faint taste of sweetness and just like the chocolate, Sharon melted at her touch and then Brenda's fingers wove through Sharon's thick and silky hair as she was swept up and carried away by her own carnal desire for the woman.

Their lips molded together, the kiss turned forceful and uncontrolled, so much so that Brenda felt like she was about to be devoured by the woman; not that she minded, in fact, Brenda felt the overwhelming need to kiss Sharon Raydor so much, so long and so often that she would never ever forget that taste.

It was better than chocolate.

She shoved her tongue into the woman's mouth and she tasted the Ding Dong, tasted Sharon Raydor, the intimacy of it startled her yet aroused her at the same time. Brenda was where few people had been before and she was pretty sure that many had wanted to be where she was now. She won, again.

Brenda drew her knees up on the chaise, one of her vintage Chanel pumps slipped from her foot and landed somewhere under the table with a thud; usually she would never mistreat it like this but when she had Sharon's warm hand slowly inching further and further up under her dress, she tended to forget about certain things.

The blonde sighed into the kiss as Sharon caressed a particularly sensitive area; it sent a shiver down Brenda's spine. The second pump fell to the floor, the noise drowned out by their collective heavy breathing. Sharon pulled her closer, her fingertips digging into her thigh, the hard touch startlingly arousing which was why Brenda submitted to it, at least for the moment, intrigued by this side of Raydor.

She opened her eyes for a quick moment where she wondered how this could feel so good. So good. "So good…" Brenda drew back, mildly shocked by the fact that she hadn't realized she had spoken yet that look Sharon gave her, that look of wanton lust, that look…

The blonde trembled; she felt like a woman, like nothing but a beautiful, sexy woman, the object of somebody's desires, and that look alone would have sufficed to make her resolve crumble, to wipe all rational thought from her mind, to make her hop onto her desk three weeks ago and throw herself at the woman.

Sharon leaned in again, her moist and warm lips sliding over her pulse point, nibbling on her neck. Brenda whimpered, feeling a sudden jolt of want, a tickle, a warmth, at the contact. She slid onto the woman's lap fully, straddling her and pushed her back, not to be outdone. Brenda grinned for a short moment yet couldn't bring herself to play that role, instead she reached out and unbuttoned Sharon's blouse.

Her breathing was harsh and fast from arousal, from impatience, from watching Sharon's chest rise and fall before her. Her fingers trembled from the excitement, her fingertips brushed the swell of Sharon's breast and then Brenda's mind went blank.

Up until that moment she hadn't thought that…she hadn't thought that…

All sound was drowned out by the blood pumping through her veins, her fingers trembled as they caressed, almost of their own volition, the soft skin before her. Brenda couldn't avert her gaze, couldn't blink, couldn't quit touching the woman. She was mesmerized, stunned by what she felt, by how utterly wet that one simple thing made her.

What would happen once they were actually naked? Brenda couldn't even think about that.

Sharon pulled her down by the neck, possessively molding their lips together once more. Brenda was rather startled by Sharon Raydor's intensity, she had expected her to be more subdued, colder somehow, but that was the mistake she had made over and over already. She had underestimated the Captain but Brenda was intent on taking the woman, Sharon, seriously from now on.

She was luscious, lustrous, sensual and surprisingly rough. Brenda had expected a certain tenderness, a certain softness to sleeping with another woman, she had even wondered if this was going to be enough for her. How silly.

Sharon pulled on the zipper of her dress with little hesitation and kissed her neck, her collar bone, her throat; she was gone, Brenda knew she was gone and soon she would be lost and deliriously in lust as well. She couldn't wait for it to happen, she couldn't wait to fall off the wagon.

She watched with hooded eyes, as if she were looking down upon herself, as Raydor grasped the right strap of her dress and pulled it over her shoulder until her bra was exposed, the bra she had bought for this occasion yet didn't seem to be getting any attention. Brenda couldn't care less, she could just stare in wonderment as the woman's delicate, delicate fingers brushed that strap over her shoulder as well.

The blonde held her breath, her eyes darted to Sharon and she couldn't help but catalogue every expression crossing her features.

Two of her fingertips hooked into the cup, pulled it down – Brenda blinked in slow motion – and then there was her nipple, hard and perky, peeking out from behind her slightly askew-sitting bra.

"Oh, god," Sharon said breathily and leaned forward before Brenda could do anything, say anything or get ready for all this. The woman kissed first the inside of her breast, sucking the flesh into her mouth, Brenda's eyes closed involuntarily at that, and then those lips, warm, soft and wet, engulfed her nipple.

The blonde felt as if all the blood in her head had rushed south, as if her world had taken on the size of the very tip of her nipple and she had to brace herself against the backrest of the chaise or else she would have toppled over. She tried breathing in but found that she couldn't even perform that simplest of tasks properly; her chest felt constricted, there were butterflies in her belly, an intense feeling of exhilaration, of danger, mixed with a bit of fear dizzied her.

It was the worst yet most exciting rollercoaster ride she had ever been on.

Brenda wove her fingers through Sharon's thick, lustrous mane, fisted it and lowered her head, drawn to that scent that had driven her crazy from the moment she had first met the woman. It was so…so…

Brenda buried her nose in Sharon's hair and moaned as the woman sucked her nipple into her mouth and caressed it with her tongue. Molten heat, liquid fire.

It was happening. She was wet. She was ready. She was going insane. She fell off the wagon.

The blonde grasped a fistful of Sharon's blouse, exhaling brokenly and unclenched her fingers. She pried her eyes open, her eyes rolled back and closed again, "Mmm…" She trailed her hand down the woman's arm, semi-conscious of her actions at this point and grasped her hand in her own.

Brenda guided their joined hands further and further along her thigh, the dress rolling up as they went. If she didn't have her now, Brenda thought, she would cry in frustration, die of unfulfilled desire, of unsatisfied lust. She needed it and she needed it now.

The blonde opened her eyes, breathing heavily, as they reached her panties. Sharon leaned back, undoubtedly feeling the heat she was almost touching, and stared up at Brenda with wide eyes. The blonde wanted to tell her to go on, to not stop but couldn't do anything but guide the woman's hand into her underwear. Her eyelids fluttered as she felt, for the very first time, the woman's warm fingertips tentatively touch her wetness.

Brenda pushed a little more, just to make clear what she wanted and stared back into Sharon's green eyes as the woman pushed her finger inside in stunned silence.

A moment went by then Sharon moved slowly, watching, observing. Brenda trembled as the sensation truly registered. She shook with want, she shivered with arousal and she knew she had to be terribly wet considering how utterly turned on she was. Sharon pushed a second finger in and Brenda's eyes closed as she felt the woman thrust inside, the digits sliding effortlessly, smoothly, into her. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, unable to control her own muscles.

The blonde felt Sharon's warmth closer, felt her breath on her neck and then her lips, warm and moist, sucking on her skin. "Oh, god, Chief…" She mumbled. "Brenda…" Sharon breathed heavily into her ear, that one word unbelievably laden with desire and want.

Brenda pulled the woman's head back by the hair and kissed her, her hips suddenly moving against the hand between her legs. She couldn't help it, couldn't control the movement, she was driven by need; Brenda squeezed her eyes shut and leaned in further and further, looking for more, for less, for everything, she wasn't entirely sure.

The sensations were too much yet not enough. "Don't stop…don't…don't stop," she whispered against the woman's lips for good measure and braced herself against the backrest again, holding onto it with all the strength left in her so she wouldn't pull Sharon's hair out.

The brunette said nothing, she made a velvety noise and kissed along Brenda's jaw, down her neck and to her breast. She squeezed it, exposing the nipple just the way she wanted it and wrapped her lips around it once more, sucking it into her mouth. Brenda's eyes rolled back in her head and she moaned helplessly, deliriously swimming in a sea of her own desire. She pushed her chest towards the woman, grasped more of her hair and clutched her blouse.

Brenda gave up on the backrest, she clung to Sharon instead, the woman was now her anchor, she became everything good, an offering of sweet, sweet chocolate, the source of her impending release. "Oh, yes…mmh," she mumbled and felt the woman's arm around her hips, drawing her closer. With every thrust Raydor seemed to claim her just that bit more, turning her into her possession.

Brenda surprised herself by offering no protest whatsoever, on the contrary, she found that she even encouraged the woman.

She opened her eyes, saw a blurred version of Los Angeles through the picture window then leaned down, drunk, dizzy, wet and met Sharon's gaze; the woman smirked up at her, it was that barely there, superior little smirk that Brenda wanted to wipe right off her face because for once the woman had actual reason to feel smug.

She unclenched her fist, released the woman's hair and grasped her jaw. She brought their lips together again, this time forcefully, and moved her hips faster.

That woman, she thought, as they were breathing, moaning and kissing seemingly at the same time. That awful woman, Brenda thought again, she was actually screwing her now. The blonde's hands grasped at her and she wailed in agony but moaned, "Yes," anyway.

And then her body jerked into the next thrust. It came so unexpectedly that Brenda almost couldn't believe it until her body locked around the woman. A wave of hot, hot heat crashed down upon, her breath stuck in her throat, her mind gone.

Brenda released a strangled moan and clutched at the woman, and almost cried because it was so good. Sharon kissed her fervently, she didn't stop, she did draw it out just as she had promised and drove Brenda to the brink of insanity with each deep thrust.

The blonde buried her face in the woman's hair, stunned into silence. She breathed heavily and listened to Sharon do the same, her harsh, moist breath warming her collar bone. The blonde shook, she blinked and then she felt a sudden sense of embarrassment wash over her. She flushed and bit her lip guiltily.

That was rather quick.

She blushed further.

Oh, for heaven's sakes…

Then Sharon kissed her neck and withdrew her fingers. Brenda felt them, wet and warm resting on her thigh. "I want you again," the brunette husked into her ear, her voice shaking with barely constrained desire and Brenda couldn't help but throb and clench and get even wetter at the mere suggestion. "Let's do it in bed this time."

The blonde whimpered.

"Now."

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** Waterbeds suck. Everyone I know who has ever had one, has eventually gotten rid of it. Today was another such day where a waterbed had to be drained at the very last minute of course and with only the tiniest of pumps that started smoking halfway through the process. It is not fun, waterbeds aren't cool.

**rebakathy**: Ha, grinning like a loon? Now that's a reaction I would've loved to see. Sorry about the not-so-nowish chapter though, hope you like the new one :)

**ithinkyourewonderful**: A chocolate cigarette? Hahaha, now I wanna have Brenda smoke one but how could I incorporate that in this fic? Maybe somebody else should do it...*hint hint*

**tayryn**: Hey, you fic pimper! I saw your new community and feel awful for not posting there as well but I'm going over all the chapters of this story again, rewriting some stuff etc and then I will post, yep. But thank you for pimping, that was kinda really cool :)

**Transylvanian**: Thanks :) I hope you'll continue liking it.

**I-Love-Capn-Raydor**: A parade? Awesome! Lol, reading over my shoulder, haha. Brenda topping from the bottom from the top? Um, yep *g* Sorry for the long wait though, poor, impatient Raydor lover :)

**ceej4**: There you are! :) I'm glad you're still reading and apparently enjoying the story. And, you know, there isn't much that would make me blush but how about you try me...as in write a fic! Please-y-please?

**tenearthimps**: Hehe, I love your icon btw, that's awesome. Hope you'll like this chapter as well and, hopefully, many happy re-readings.

**Unusual-Peanutbutter**: You know what I keep asking myself? What is unusual peanutbutter? I cannot stop thinking about it when I read it. It's a great name, yep, I envy you.

**bsgroxmysox**: Ah, another one hooked...it's all part of my evil plan to have Brenda/Sharon fics dominate the fanfic world! Nah...but it would be nice, wouldn't it? So, I'm happy to hear you like the fic so far and I'm really excited to be getting new readers still :) Thanks!

**KDTB**: You wanna sleep with Sharon Raydor? Yeah...me too :P As for the award, sure, I'd love an award and it would look great on my desk...a real conversation opener if you ask me. "Hey, what's that?" - "Oh that old thing..." But anyway, I'm glad you liked the chapter and I really hope you'll like this one as well *nervous*

**LizzieV**: Yay, Westwood! How cool! So, if I ever had a question that the almighty internet couldn't answer about that area then I could call you, or PM you? That would be awesome :P As for my attention to detail, well, I love the details, they are the most important things...I just wish I were more patient with them, I always feel like I keep leaving things unfinished. But anyway, thanks for reading and leaving a review :)

**moxcar2010**: Wow, you read the whole thin in one day? That's a lot to read but quite nice to hear, wowy. Thank you for the very kind review :)

**tanama30**: Many, many, many more updates, promise :P

**urbandaily**: Wow, thank you! I read other stuff too actually...when it's a good story, it's a good story, right? But I'm pretty wowed by the fact that even a Brenda/Fritz shipper reads this. Thank you for giving this little fic a chance :)

**CaityBeloved**: Hahaha, you can never look at a ding dong the same way? Hehehe, I'm quite pleased with myself right now :P As for the elaborateness, well, I hope it's a good-interesting and not a weird-interesting. Hope you'll like the new chapter...

Okay, thanks everyone! You guys totally rock! I really, really appreciate that you take the time to review this fic! Now on to the next chapter...

**Chapter Twenty-One:**

Sugar

Brenda hadn't expected Raydor to perform quite so formidably. Of course, she didn't know the woman well enough, nor had she had any other prior experience to base a theory on but being blown away like that hadn't been part of Brenda's plan.

All the more reason to prove herself.

"For heaven's sakes, hold still!" Brenda pulled on the back of Sharon's blouse, slipping it down her arms.

"I will, if you hold still first."

They glared at one another, standing in the middle of the room in various states of semi-undress. "Well, how 'bout you try 'n make me?" Brenda drawled, lifting an eyebrow while smoothing her lean body along Sharon's curves and tugged on the blouse which had ended up a sort of straitjacket for the other woman.

Sharon moved slightly in her restraints and rolled her eyes in a resigned manner. "You're an awful, awful person."

"Likewise," Brenda grinned and leaned in to kiss along the woman's neck. Feeling smug, she pulled on the zipper of Sharon's pencil skirt with deliberate slowness, the sound it produced doing the gloating for her. Nibbling and kissing along the woman's bare shoulder, savoring the taste and the feel of her skin, Brenda brushed the skirt over her hips until it fell to the floor.

She drew back a little but didn't glance down, instead she stared intently into Sharon's eyes, inhaling as the woman exhaled. Brenda twisted the blouse, being very deliberate about it, and brushed the fingertips of her right hand along Sharon's hip, the touch so fleeting and soft that it felt like the caress of a feather.

Brenda reached behind herself, a small, barely noticeable smile lifting the very corners of her mouth upwards as she pulled the zipper of her dress down the rest of the way. The blonde observed with fascination as Sharon set her jaw and lifted her chin just so, she could feel the tension in her arms and twisted the blouse a bit to test the woman.

She had her hands clenched into fists, Brenda knew without actually seeing it.

She was about to really win for the very first time.

Brenda leaned in with a cockiness that made her feel rather unlike herself yet she also felt her soft and tender side being drawn to the woman like a moth to the flame. This was her chance to truly feel what it was like to be with Sharon Raydor and even though she had gotten her first taste already, the mere idea of doing all that again blew Brenda's mind.

Being this close to the woman was arousing in itself considering how often she had denied herself even that simplest of pleasures.

The blonde leaned in, captivated by the scent that swirled around her, that seemed more alive this close, just having wafted off the woman's warm skin. She closed her eyes and brought her lips to Sharon's jaw, right by her ear where Brenda imagine she put on her perfume. It was very faint, a mere component of what the scent was made up of. Still, the blonde kissed the spot and nibbled but the woman wouldn't relax.

Of course, Brenda had expected that and she rather liked it. Raydor's pompousness, her sense of entitlement, it annoyed the blonde to no end, yet she couldn't help but be drawn to it in the hopes of taming the woman. Somewhere in the back of her mind Brenda knew that such a thing would never happen or at least not like this but she was still intent on trying.

The simple truth was that Brenda was used to getting what she wanted, having always been a daddy's girl and having manipulated a many men to bend to her will. She was a world-class interrogator, a reader of people who could get somebody to just say about anything but Raydor? She wouldn't budge, ever, and the more energy and intensity Brenda invested, the harder the woman countered.

Brenda thought that perhaps she had found her equal, at least when it came to pig-headedness.

She sighed gently, her breath ghosting over the woman's throat and kissed along her jaw. Sharon's skin was so smooth and soft and tasted very subtly; Brenda had to restrain herself in order to not be all over the woman like a hapless brute.

Oh, how she had dreamed of this. She had dreamed of tasting every inch of her Cap'n Raydor, of lying beside her just to absorb her scent, of running her hands all over the woman's body until she had memorized every peculiarity, every imperfection and every oh-so-perfect curve.

She had dreamed of running her fingers through that thick, lustrous mane and did just that, letting every silky strand register in her brain as she kissed those lips she had almost compulsively stared at sometimes when the woman had spoken. Pursed, slightly pouty, that cute thing she did and those tiny, little, barely-there smirks that drove her just mad.

The way she spoke, the way she stood with her hands on her hips, the way she walked.

Their tongues touched gently, tentatively. There was no pushing for once, no competition, no fight over dominance and it tasted good, the prospect of mutual understanding, of respect, of peaceful coexistence but, Brenda knew, Sharon wouldn't just leave it at that which was why she launched a preemptive strike and invaded the woman's mouth.

She kissed like she had never kissed anybody before, sloppy, wet, lust pouring out and pulled Sharon against herself wishing she could crawl right into her, wishing there was something more than this, more than just plain sex. Sharon surprisingly submitted to her, at least as much as she could, but Brenda felt slightly disappointed by her small victory. She kissed harder just for good measure, willing the woman to put up a fight but there came none.

Brenda didn't want to be given permission.

She decided to tempt the woman with her freedom and let go of the blouse; the woman didn't move. Brenda pulled her closer by the hips then trailed her fingertips up and down the woman's back. She felt the small bumps of her spine, delicate and strangely beautiful, felt the hairs rise whenever she touched a particular spot, felt Sharon hum into her mouth and then…

And then the woman's blouse slipped to the floor and her hands were pulling down the straps of Brenda's dress that she had put back on somewhat after their encounter on the chaise. Sharon was sneaky, and really good at this, Brenda thought and realized at the same time that, if she wanted to divest of the dress, she would have to let go.

The blonde drew back and glanced down; Sharon had her arms around her already, holding her, her fingertips digging urgently into her back. Their breasts were pressed together, Sharon's encased in a well-fitting, alluring bra, and Brenda really wanted to know what it would feel like if she didn't wear that dress, if she could feel the woman's skin on her own, feel her breasts pressed against her own, feel the woman's hard nipples poke into her skin.

And hard they were, Brenda saw them even under all that silk and lace.

She glanced up slowly and caught Sharon do the same.

Brenda swallowed at the look she received yet refused to budge; if the woman wanted her naked so bad then she should be to one to step back. Brenda licked her lip and breathed in slowly. She smelled so good.

And she was so warm! The blonde could practically feel Sharon Raydor's heat burn through her clothes. The woman was aroused, it wasn't the first time Brenda had seen the desire in her eyes, it wasn't the first time Sharon was looking at her like that yet it was the first time she could actually, physically feel the desire coursing through the other woman and knew she wouldn't be able to resist.

The brunette narrowed her eyes slightly and Brenda took a small, tentative step back, being more deliberate about it than was necessary.

Sharon looked very pleased with herself, almost smug but she didn't gloat, she just pulled on the dress urgently, freeing Brenda of the first strap. The blonde immediately wove her fingers through thick hair and pulled the woman down, standing on the tips of her toes for leverage since her heels were somewhere under the table whereas Sharon's were not.

She maneuvered them towards the bed, kissing, until her dress pooled around her feet at the floor. The blonde stepped out of the silky material, not even sparing it a second glance as their bodies touched. Sharon's skin was warm and slightly damp, and Brenda could actually feel her breathe in and out quickly, could feel the woman's panties against herself and couldn't help but wonder what lay underneath.

Of course she knew what was there but Brenda just realized that she had no idea what she was supposed to do but then again, when did she ever do what she was supposed to anyway?

Sharon made a half-hearted attempt at steering Brenda to the bed but the blonde, never having been particularly good at dancing but knowing how to maneuver around a thing or two, walked the woman right into the bed, the back of her legs bumping into the edge so surprisingly that she stumbled backwards and landed on the bed ungracefully.

But of course, Brenda thought, the brunette had had to drag her down with her. The blonde found herself in almost the same position she had been in before, towering over Sharon. She had landed somewhat unfortunate yet couldn't help but see the benefits of her position as she leaned in, grasping one of Sharon's wrists, uncurling it from around her waist, and forcing the woman down slowly.

Her knee, planted firmly between the woman's parted legs and pressing into Sharon's crotch the closer she got to lying down, certainly helped matters.

Brenda couldn't believe how hot the woman was, she felt her against her knee, the dampness she had logically assumed would be there, startled her nonetheless. The woman was wet, for her, because of her!

Sharon made a breathy noise against her lips as she seemed to surrender to the experience. The blonde was fascinated and pulled on the woman's hair, tilting her head back until she could nibble on her jaw, she rather liked it there Brenda had found and heard the brunette's heels scrape against the carpeted floor as she sucked a bit of skin into her mouth.

"Oh, god," the brunette said feebly, letting go of Brenda and sinking back onto her elbow, offering up her neck and her jaw freely. The blonde released her wrist, seeing no point in restraining the woman any longer; Brenda had her where she wanted her. Sharon scooted back on the bed a bit and the blonde followed, hearing one of the black high heels drop to the floor.

How she had cursed them, their sound the only warning signal for the oncoming disaster that Captain Raydor undoubtedly would bring yet whenever Brenda heard the woman's heels click and clack toward her, she couldn't help but think of her legs.

They were amazing. Brenda had never fully understood Flynn's appreciation for her own legs but the day she had touched Sharon's knee had changed all that. Brenda trailed her hand down as it occurred to her that she could touch that knee as much as she wanted now, she could feel the silky, smooth texture of the woman's skin slide along the palm of her hand, she could feel the muscles underneath…

The sexiest legs. "You have the best legs I've ever seen…" Brenda mumbled against Sharon's neck.

"Hmm," the brunette hummed. "Thank you?"

The blonde leaned back, giving the woman a smoldering look as she let her hand wander along her calf. Her fingertips danced over the smooth skin until they slid over a delicate high heel. Brenda took it off with agonizing slowness. She didn't dare look even though she wanted to, wanted to kiss along that creamy white shin and nibble on the woman's knee. Her _perfect_ knee.

Brenda didn't look, she would win this round, and dangled the shoe from her finger. "You're welcome," she said, pleased with her self-control and dropped the shoe; it landed on the mattress then tumbled to the floor.

Raydor just looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

Brenda quirked her eyebrow and slinked sexily along the woman's body until she sat so close to her that their breaths mingled and that their chests almost touched and that her knee had taken up permanent residence against Sharon's crotch.

She wanted to force her down but the woman wouldn't let her. It wasn't a fight she had in mind, Brenda knew that, knew Sharon that much, but it was a game, she was trying to antagonize her like Raydor often did. It was the only way she was able to get to her, Brenda was aware of her weakness and that Raydor exploited it yet couldn't help but find it arousing.

Sharon wouldn't break, she wouldn't give in just because Brenda asked her to and the blonde was glad that it wouldn't be that easy…not that she didn't find the other woman's behavior anything less than impossible!

All she wanted to do was to give back what she had been given, it was her turn now and how dare that woman try to rob her of her chance to explore the body she had had countless fantasies and daydreams about.

Brenda reached back and grasped the woman's knee, she pushed at it none-too-gently, parting the woman's legs further to accommodate her thigh and leaned in purposefully, wetness pooling in her underwear as she felt Sharon's hot center through the thin material of what she assumed to be silken panties.

She towered over the woman, tried to memorize the way she sounded at the forceful contact, how she looked like with her eyes closed and her lips parted; Brenda imagined that she looked something akin to that when she ate chocolate.

Brenda reached out, her eyes caressing the swell of Sharon's breasts encased in a beautiful piece of lingerie that was cut low and now showed a bit of the woman's nipple whenever she breathed in which she was doing a lot, to Brenda's chagrin. The blonde gently grasped Sharon's chin and the woman's eyes opened slowly at the contact, and then she increased the pressure between her legs just to see how close to insane she could drive the woman before she snapped.

Sharon stared right back at her, her skin starting to glisten in the dim light, her breathing fast but controlled and then the woman lifted her hand slowly and caressed Brenda's arm, letting her fingertips slide sensually over her skin. Brenda felt a maddening tingle in their wake.

She cupped Brenda's hand and before the blonde could wonder what that was all about, the woman kissed her wrist.

Brenda shivered and broke out into a cold sweat; she sucked her lower lip in and released a shuddering breath. She felt the very tip of Sharon's tongue against her skin, the sensation magnified by its smallness – sometimes less was more, Brenda thought nonsensically, tempted to shove Raydor's hand down her panties again to let her Captain take care of things.

But no, Brenda bit her lip, steeling her resolve, even as Sharon nibbled on her skin and grazed it with her teeth. The blonde lifted a challenging eyebrow and snatched her hand away. She didn't waste any time, which meant she only had to endure Sharon's smug expression for so long, and slid her hand into the woman's panties.

She was crazy hot and slick, puffy, soft and silky wet, as ready as a woman could possibly be. Brenda throbbed as she guided the tip of a finger along the outer lips. It was fairly easy, she realized now that she was actually doing it and she had no idea why she had worried in the beginning.

She pushed her middle finger inside, slowly, very slowly and cupped the woman's center carefully, waiting, breathlessly, in poised anticipation for some sort of reaction.

Sharon just looked at her scathingly, her fingers digging into the bedding. Brenda felt her tremble, or maybe she was trembling, it was hard to tell then Sharon said, "_Fine_. Have it your way."

Her way? Brenda entered the woman fully, pushing her finger inside as far as it would go.

Then Raydor's eyes rolled back in her head.

She won, Brenda moved forward, forcing the woman onto her back, although she went rather willingly and pushed a second finger inside.

"Mmm, yes," Sharon purred and met her thrust.

Immediately she took a hold of Raydor's hand, pinning it to the mattress as well but couldn't control the other; Sharon was brushing Brenda's blonde hair back, a rather nice gesture.

Brenda bit her lip, she was on edge somehow, adrenaline tunneling her vision as she breathed harshly and pushed her fingers inside as deeply as she could. Sharon's hips met her hand, once, twice and then they had already fallen into the perfect rhythm, Brenda's wet palm sliding silkily against the woman's clit.

It was all she wanted apparently, not that Brenda minded, she was too focused on pushing her fingers inside that wet, molten heat, too focused on downright forcing the pleasure onto the woman, that she couldn't have paid attention to much else. Now that she had her, Brenda wanted to greedily have more, be deeper inside, make the woman come many, many, many times until she couldn't move anymore; she couldn't get enough of Sharon Raydor.

Looking down, breathing the air that was harshly expelled from both of them, smelling the woman's delicious scent as well as her arousal, Brenda couldn't help but marvel at her. The Wicked Witch was gone, beneath her lay a soft-looking woman that had given herself over completely to the sea of pleasure. Brenda couldn't help but want even that for herself.

She lowered her lips to the woman's neck again and kissed her all over, bit her, making sure that it did hurt a little bit.

"Oh, god, Chief," Sharon said without realizing that she had done so. She moaned into Brenda's ear and hooked her leg over the blonde's hip. "Oh, Brenda…faster…"

Faster? Brenda rolled her eyes inwardly and decided to go with 'harder' instead. The woman met her thrust, her back arching at the surprising force behind it.

"Oh, god," Sharon moaned feebly, breathily, dragging her nails down Brenda's back in an attempt to somehow release some of that frustration, moving her hips more vigorously. Brenda just hoped that the woman wasn't marking her but couldn't make herself care enough to stop her.

She kissed wetly along Sharon's jaw, humming at the taste and the smell of the woman. Why had it taken her this long to get to this point? Brenda pushed her fingers inside, feeling the softness of Sharon's skin against her fingertips.

If she had done this earlier, she might not have worked herself up like this and would be satisfied with what she had but no, Brenda had had to dance around it, play the game, and now she paid for it with her insatiable desire for the woman.

"Mmm, yes, right there…" The brunette drew out hoarsely into her ear and arched her back.

To hell with that, Brenda thought, kissing the woman's upper lip languidly; how she adored the shape of it. She moved her fingers, in and out just so, and Sharon moved in sync with her, against her, angling her hips and just taking what she needed.

"Yes," the brunette mumbled against her lips. "Oh, yes…" She had wrestled her hand free, Brenda hadn't even noticed until Sharon was fisting her hair and clutching at her back.

Raydor was trying to hurry her along and Brenda was tempted to give in, she couldn't help but counter the woman's forcefulness with her own. She tore her lips away, a bit angry at being played like that and pushed her fingers deeper inside, increasing the pressure of her wet palm. She felt the woman throb in her hand, she felt the pulsing of that little nub, felt her heartbeat and it drove her crazy.

Brenda leaned down again and sucked on Sharon's pulse point; she had to make her come now or else Brenda herself might explode.

It was out of control then, too many hands clutching and holding on, too many legs tangled, hips moving; it was sloppy and urgent and more like fucking than like sex but Brenda couldn't care less, in fact, she quite liked the idea of fucking a woman who obviously had a stick up her ass…it made the whole thing arousingly improper.

Then Sharon stopped moving and she wasn't breathing harshly anymore, she was just gasping and Brenda looked down at her, wide-eyed, only to be glared at.

"Don't stop! For god's sake, don't you dare stop!"

Well, then…

Brenda trembled in anticipation, her desire to make the woman come so overwhelming, she couldn't look at anything else or listen to anything but Sharon's gasps as she lay beneath her, her legs parted obscenely wide and her hands clutching at Brenda's skin.

"Ah," Sharon made that small noise as she tensed and froze. She hovered on the edge, the very brink for the longest time, her muscles locked around Brenda's fingers that the blonde refused to still – she wasn't supposed to stop, or was she? Sharon's lips were parted in a silent, breathless moan and then her eyes closed and she came wetly around Brenda's fingers.

The blonde stared at the woman, biting her lip, she even counted the contractions.

At that moment Brenda wanted nothing more than to have Sharon inside of her again, have the woman screw her into the next week. Her panties were so wet, she would have to get rid of them and then they could—

God, she hoped it wasn't over yet!

Was it supposed to be?

It was a one-night-stand which basically meant that one stayed the night, so, technically-

"Stop that and get the hell off me."

Brenda glared down at the woman yet couldn't help the smirk. Raydor smirked right back at her, obviously quite pleased with her own performance. She withdrew her fingers, they were sticky, wet and hot and she couldn't help but trail them along the woman's thigh with a pointed look as a payback for that jab she had just received then Brenda slid off the woman and flopped onto her back, grinning from ear to ear.

Beside her, Raydor sighed languidly. "I hate to say this," Sharon began slowly, her voice gravelly, "but you are really, _really_ good at this."

Brenda smiled, glowed, and reached over to pat the woman's thigh. "Likewise." She fell silent and nibbled on her lower lip; the entire room smelled of sex and for heaven's sakes was she turned on! But how to broach the subject? She glanced down at herself then over at Sharon whom she couldn't believe she wanted this much again already. "Look at us," the blonde drawled conversationally, leaning onto her elbows. "We didn't even undress all the way-"

"-which means that we're clearly not finished," Sharon said matter-of-factly.

"I was just thinkin' the same thing," Brenda said as if they were discussing the weather. "Which you would've known if you hadn't interrupted me."

Raydor scoffed next to her, letting out a little laugh. "You want to argue? Now?"

"No," Brenda screeched and sat up. "I'm just sayin', you're pretty rude."

"Says the woman who walks right over everyone."

"That is not true!"

"It is so true!"

Brenda scoffed and struggled to get onto her knees. "I can't believe I managed to stay in the same room with you for this long."

"And I can't believe I even contemplated getting naked with you a minute ago."

"Well, maybe we should be gettin' dressed then," Brenda responded contritely, putting on her best poker face.

"Or maybe," Sharon said, coming closer on her knees. "Maybe we should just…"

The blonde blinked. "Yes?"

"Get naked?"

"Um…"

"Since we're already here-"

"—and almost naked anyway—"

"Exactly."

They stared at one another and it occurred to Brenda that they were animals.

Plain and simple.

Brenda's thoughts drifted back to that very first kiss in her kitchen, how she had almost lost her mind as she had tasted the woman, had felt her warm lips against her own and the softness of her breasts.

The blonde held still as Sharon reached for her, having seen in her eyes that she was miles away. The woman laid her hand on her cheek, an unexpectedly tender gesture, her eyes gleaming, shining, as she traced Brenda's upper lip with her thumb.

She smiled somewhat and came closer as if she had read Brenda's mind and kissed her gently. The blonde wondered if Raydor truly knew her that well, after all, the woman had known that her advances hadn't been unwelcome, she had known that Brenda wanted her as much as she did, Sharon had known that they would end up in a hotel room together and that it had all been a mere matter of time.

Was she that transparent?

Brenda hummed into the kiss as her Captain nibbled on her bottom lip and cupped the woman's cheek as well, melting into the kiss. Her mouth was warm and she knew how to create a sensual experience, she was quite adept, not like that first time they had kissed.

Sharon reached for her bra then but the blonde batted her hand away, grinning as she drew back a little. "Nuh uh…I'll be goin' first today, Cap'n."

"Is that so, Chief?"

The blonde leaned back in, her lips sliding across the woman's cheek to her ear. "That's so…" Her breath hitched as she suddenly felt her bra give way.

Brenda drew back slowly and met Raydor's twinkling eyes; the woman had opened the clasp almost unnoticed and with one hand. "How…how'd…" The blonde closed her mouth, the question superfluous.

"You sure you're supposed to go first, Chief Johnson? Because to me it looks like you're practically begging to be undressed."

Sharon reached for the bra strap, too confident in her victory that Brenda had no difficulty getting a hold of her wrist. Leaning in provocatively, Brenda let her breath ghost over the woman's skin and said, "I never beg…Captain."

* * *

"Nnnn-" Brenda tore her lips away as her spine curled and arched. "No, no, no, nnn-" A sharp gasp escaped her when Sharon's mouth covered the vein on her neck and sucked on the skin; she would leave a mark, Brenda just knew it but was beyond caring. "Not yet, wait—wait, no, no, no-"

Her mouth said no, the tight grasp she had on a fistful of Sharon's hair said yes.

Brenda tilted her head further to the side, offering herself up, a gasp escaping her lips as Sharon bit her none too gently. Then her eyes rolled back in her head quite involuntarily.

"Oh, nooo," she wailed and felt the first bit of the expected euphoria. "Oh, nnn-yes! Oh, yes!"

With the first contraction all her senses expanded while hot and cold blurred into a single thing. Her body shook, trembled, against the other woman and then an intense feeling of exhilaration washed over Brenda when Sharon gasped into her neck as her own pleasure crashed down upon her like a tidal wave.

True to her word, Sharon prolonged it, drew it out, basked in it and greedily drank it all up until her body trembled in exhaustion. She pulled her hand out from between them, as did the blonde, and then she just laid down and buried her face in Brenda's neck and hair.

The blonde stared up at the ceiling as her vision cleared, trying to get her breathing under control. She squeezed her eyes shut, calming herself by softly caressing the woman's back with her fingertips. Sharon hummed lazily into her neck, kissing a spot here and there, and pulled on the blanket they had somehow ended up under and somewhat twisted up in.

This was the moment everything would sink in, Brenda thought and worried her bottom lip. Was she supposed to get out of bed now and leave? Was she supposed to stay?

Was she supposed to go home and pretend all this hadn't happened?

This was the moment she would regret this, regret Sharon, regret that very first moment she had looked the woman in the eye.

Sharon shifted slowly, nibbling on her jaw, and Brenda couldn't help that little sigh, couldn't help the goose bumps, couldn't keep her nipples from turning hard instantly as the arousal the woman seemed to induce so easily in her curled along her spine.

Maybe Raydor would get out of bed and leave, perhaps she was that kind of type but Brenda wouldn't know, in fact, she had no idea with whom she had just slept with.

With whom she had cheated on her husband.

She didn't know who this woman was that seemed to be worth all this.

Or perhaps it wasn't about Sharon.

Perhaps Brenda was just a really, really selfish person.

"Wait, wait! What are you doin'?"

Sharon blinked up at her, having meandered to the blonde's collar bone and on her way to a very pointy, achingly hard nipple. "Oral sex…" She said evenly. "I do hope that you're at least familiar with the concept."

Brenda scoffed and wanted to cross her arms but kept herself from doing so. "I know what oral sex is," she said indignantly, "I just don't feel that it's the right-"

"Shut up."

Brenda recoiled slightly; she was so stunned that she couldn't have been bothered to protest as Sharon pulled the sheet over her head and disappeared under it. "I am not the one who's loud!" She protested while feeling the woman's breath ghost over her inner thigh. Brenda waited in poised anticipation and then there was Sharon's warm, soft tongue slithering wetly over her clit.

The blonde's muscles went slack and she had difficulty keeping her eyes open or to breathe for that matter when the woman's warm lips sucked her into her mouth.

"Oh, dear Lord…"

What followed were almost three hours of uninterrupted, hot, sweaty, wild, animalistic and overwhelmingly amazing sex.

It was then that Brenda realized what Sharon Raydor had really meant when she had declared the blonde her latest indulgence.

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: **Why do we keep unfreeing our free time? I hate that I do that. I hate that I can't not be busy. I've also been rather preoccupied with my cigar selection - it's cigar lounge time on Saturday and I can't decide what to take with me, plus it's not like we can go there every other week. Ugh. Any cigar smokers out there?**  
**

tayryn: Ha! Love you back for always leaving such awesome reviews! I hope you didn't read that chapter over and over, you must know it by heart then...not that I would mind :P But I hope you'll like the next chapter and that it will provide some variety.

moxcar2010: Yep, thanked tayryn for the fic-pimping which is kinda cool because I've only been pimped once before I think. Anyway. I'm glad you're reading...I should totally post on LJ too but I'm too lazy. I'm glad you liked the chapter and I do hope that you'll like the next as well.

rebakathy: At work? Don't do that. You also shouldn't start this chapter at work either. I'm a bad, bad, bad person, uh huh.

ithinkyourewonderful: When will there be another update? Do I have to come over and nag 'til you can't bear it anymore? Nah. I know how it is :) So, here's the thingy I cut from the last chapter, nothing too exciting I'm afraid but I like the tone of the conversation way better than before. Anyway. Thank you for reading and leaving a comment - you know I'm your fan and it's always great to see your name pop up.

KDTB: I'm sorry, I didn't mean to kill your brain. Technically, it's really your own fault...no one forced you to read...and no one forced you to imagine the whole thing in your head. I bet that's what killed your brain, uh huh. Wasn't me. :) So, it was kinda funny? Good, I'm bad at humor I think. Thanks for commenting though, I'm glad you liked it.

tenearthimps: Yes, I totally second that :P Thanks for commenting and please, keep reading :)

godoggo: Wow, thank you :) I was rather nervous about the last chapter and the chapter before that because if you suck at writing the sex after such a long build-up people might turn on you :P I'm not planning on ending the fic any time soon, it's a rather long way they still have to go and I hate myself for making this whole story up in my head before consulting my schedule first, grr. Ha, you can be the first to get a signed anything from me :)

ForeverCher: Awww, another fried brain. Hope everything's working again the way it's supposed to :) Sorry to disappoint you but there's no real big insight into Sharon's character yet. I know, it sucks but there will be a whole chapter dedicated to her alone at some point, it's already written but...I hope you're patient :)

myIllusion: Ha, sorry I always take so long to update! I know how frustrating it is to read a story you like only to find it incomplete, argh! But I'm glad you liked it so far and that I have a new reader, that really rocks and I'm always thrilled to hear of new people reading my little fic. Thanks for commenting and I hope you'll keep on reading :)

bsgroxmysox: I was so nervous that the sex wouldn't live up to everybody's expectations - that would've sucked big time, right? Phew :) Anyway, Brenda's always thinking something, right? She's got way too much going on up there, imo. Well, I'm glad you liked the chapter and I hope you'll like the next as well :)

Cellen8: Lol, argue each others clothes off! Der war gut :) Muss ich mir merken. Oh, manno, ich fühl' mich immer so außen vor, wenn alle über Sex and the City reden, ich hab das kaum geguckt. Verdammt. Oh, man, der erste Porno, ist der jemals gut? Nu ja, hoffe du hast die Kirche nicht zu sehr geärgert, nicht dass mir's was ausmacht ;) hihi. Ach, und warum rede ich immer mit allen Deutschen deutsch? Ich kann das nicht lassen - Deutsche Sprache, schöne Sprache...Englisch ist was für Muschis :) Und, jup, zelebrieren wir unsere Gayness! Ich geh' mal die Regenbogenfahne holen...

Everyone, I'm sorry I'm so late! But it's my unfreed free time. Still, I'm sorry and I will try to do better from now on :) Anyway, thank you all for leaving such encouraging and kind reviews, they really help and I appreciate them a lot. Thanks, you guys rock!

**Chapter Twenty-Two:**

One More To Go

"They call you a bitch…"

Brenda lifted an eyebrow incredulously at Sharon's conversational tone and not necessarily the insult itself.

"Which I think is a huge compliment."

The blonde rolled her eyes and mumbled, "I have no idea why anyone would call you a Wicked Witch."

"Oh, right, I heard about that," Sharon responded gleefully. "But, personally, I like your Sweet Georgia Bitch better." Brenda saw her grin lopsidedly out of the corner of her eye. "It has a certain ring to it."

The blonde nibbled on her lip – Sweet Georgia Bitch? Of course she was aware of the fact that people called her names behind her back, if they didn't she wouldn't be doing her job right…right? "They really call me that?"

"Frequently," Raydor confirmed. "They do say much more inappropriate things about your wardrobe though."

"Well, they say inappropriate things about yours too," Brenda lied thinking more of herself and her thoughts on Sharon's skirts that rode up a little when she sat exposing that perfect knee and some of that milky white, soft looking thigh. "You should stop wearin' those, those, those geometrical jackets…they make you look unapproachable." The blonde shrugged to herself. "Not that that's entirely unfittin'…"

Sharon scoffed beside her, yet there was a definite smile audible in the sound. "And here I was just about to compliment you on your vintage suits."

"You were? I thought you find 'em ridiculous!"

"I never said that," the brunette responded calmly, sounding oddly at ease. "You shouldn't be as presumptuous as you are."

"Well," Brenda closed her eyes, smiling a little. "I do like those pretty skirts you wear all the time…" She blushed a bit and added coyly, "I mean it, you do have great legs."

"Thank you," Sharon said, "that is very nice of you to say."

The blonde bit her lip.

"I do like your legs as well."

That was rather civilized of them, Brenda thought, downright nice.

"You know what the most uninspired insult is they have ever hurled at me?"

Brenda shrugged almost imperceptibly, feeling Sharon's eyes on her.

"Dyke."

And that was it. The blonde waited for more but there came nothing, Sharon just went quiet after that, apparently enjoying the silence and the still lasting post-coital bliss. Brenda meanwhile blew at a strand of hair once, twice and a third time but it wouldn't budge, it was stuck to her sweaty forehead.

"Hmm," Sharon huffed after a while then went mute again. Brenda could practically feel the wheels turn in the woman's head and it went on for what seemed like endless minutes. "Hmm," she huffed again.

Brenda blinked slowly, reluctant to move or to even talk yet couldn't help but be annoyed by the constant interruptions. "What?"

Sharon breathed in and out, not at all dramatically but somewhat resigned and said with a bit of distaste, "I think I may be a lesbian."

For a moment the news startled the blonde but then it all didn't really matter which was why she had never given it any serious thought to begin with.

"And if you tell anyone, I am going to stab you, cut you up and then dispose of you in the toilet," Sharon went on slowly.

Brenda blinked and sucked her lower lip in.

There was silence for about ten whole seconds then Sharon breathed in and started talking as if she couldn't keep it in, as if she needed to talk about it so bad that she couldn't help but unload her emotional baggage on someone as unsuitable as Brenda.

"I'm the bitchy feminist, the elbowing and stepping on toes kind of cop, the I.A. rat, and they have called me a lesbian behind my back, a self-loathing homosexual who made everyone around her miserable, including her husband."

"You're married?" Brenda's voice rose as she turned onto her side and looked down at Sharon who was staring up at the ceiling with pursed lips and doozey eyes.

"Divorced."

The blonde let out the breath she had been holding. "Well, 's a good thing too, huh?"

Sharon, as expected, gave her a withering glare that almost melted the skin right off Brenda's face then she sighed and shook her head a little. "I did consider the possibility but I never thought that they were right."

Brenda bit her lip, trying to conceal her grin but unsuccessfully. "And you've just figured all that out..?"

Sharon's expression turned resigned and somewhat comical, as if she had just eaten something she'd rather not taste ever again. "Yes."

Brenda lifted an eyebrow.

"No…" Sharon admitted, her lips working around words she was not yet ready to speak aloud. "I think I've known for quite some time," she almost whispered.

"Well…I wouldn't worry about it too much…" Brenda said lightly and slumped onto her back, closing her eyes. The other woman moved beside her, her warmth coming closer and her gaze penetrating and annoying. The blonde opened her eyes – Sharon was looming over her. "I haven't done this before either, if it helps any?"

"You haven't?" The brunette wondered, her tone suggesting that she had expected Brenda to have slept with at least a hundred women prior to this.

"You're my first," she said, "and my last."

Sharon's face fell. "You didn't like it."

"Oh, I did…" Brenda drawled, wanting to reassure the woman then realized that she had once again spoken before thinking first and covered her eyes, blushing. "I did…like it, Sharon," the name tasted odd on her tongue. "It's just that I'm…married."

"Right," the brunette responded quietly, deep in thought. "So, you're not at all concerned about the fact that we slept together and liked it?"

"Not really, no," she said and shook her head a little.

"No?"

"Nope."

Sharon blinked in disbelieve. "Okay…but you can't tell me that you won't be lying awake over this."

"Maybe, maybe not…"

"But why would you do such a thing if you didn't have the inclination to-"

Brenda silenced her with a finger on her lips. "How 'bout we hold off on…all this 'til later? Much, much later?"

"You mean later as in never, correct?"

The blonde licked her bottom lip and brushed Sharon's hair back behind her ear. "That's exactly what I had in mind," she grinned.

"You're impossible to deal with."

"And you're overanalyzin' everythin'," Brenda retorted lightly, letting a couple strands of soft, silky hair glide between her fingers while she trailed her hand down the woman's chest.

Sharon swallowed, "This is incredibly unfair."

Brenda circled the woman's nipple with her fingernail. "Oh, do you think so, Cap'n Raydor?"

The brunette glared down at her through half-lidded eyes. "I'm going to get you for that, Johnson."

* * *

"…what are you doing?"

Brenda gasped in surprise, dropping the shoe she had just found under the table. Staring in the general direction of the bed and spotting Sharon's silhouette in the dim light of the city shining through the big picture window, Brenda contemplated her next move. "I…I was just tryin' to get all my clothes together."

"You could've just turned on the goddamn light," the brunette murmured sleepily, scooting to one side of the bed.

"I didn't wanna wake you up."

"Oh, gee, I'm sorry I ruined your escape," Sharon drawled and turned on the lamp on the bedside table. "I told you, I'm not interested in anything beyond sex."

Brenda, still on her knees, sat on the floor and sighed. "I know…I've just never done anythin' like this." And maybe I wasn't scared of your reaction but of mine, she added mentally.

"Well," Sharon sat up, "here's your bra." It dangled from her very fingertip. "Maybe you should take a shower before you leave…you smell like you spent the better part of the night having wild sex – oh, wait, that's exactly what happened," she added smugly.

Brenda scoffed, a blush slowly coloring her cheeks.

"Just take that shower…please?" Sharon rolled onto her stomach, the sheet low on her back, exposing the better part of it as well as the scratches Brenda had left there.

That was when the blonde knew that the problem wasn't the shower, wasn't the sex or their little one-night-stand, no, it was the fact that, while looking at Sharon like that, she wanted to climb right back into bed and do it all over again.

She couldn't though; it was past four, the night was practically over and that was all it had been intended to be. One night.

She would take that shower and then she would go home and pick up where she had left off with her life.

Brenda sucked her lower lip in and grabbed her purse, throwing glances at an unmoving Sharon still lying on her stomach, her hair in disarray and spilling lusciously over her shoulders. Brenda refused to give the woman much thought from then on and tiptoed into the bathroom, her body aching in places it hadn't ached in a very long time.

Sex with Fritz was always rather pain-free, except, of course, when she wanted it a little bit rough but sex with a person you hardly knew, sex with a person that you wanted to outdo just to be outdone in return, sex with a person that didn't take a moment to ask for permission left you with a few aches here and there.

Brenda stepped in front of the mirror and dropped her clothes in the sink, her purse on top and mentally prepared for the reflection she would encounter in the mirror. The blonde scratched her eyebrow and wiped a few strands of hair out of her face then looked up.

There she was.

Her hair was not only in disarray but really all over the place, her make-up was gone, she looked a little tired yet there was a glow about her that Brenda actually started to feel guilty about and she could see a small bruise forming near her nipple where that woman had obviously sucked a bit too hard.

_Oh, for heaven's sakes!_

Brenda glared at the bruise and turned around, inspecting her backside. "Shoot," she whispered. There, right beneath her shoulder blade were the imprints of four fingers.

The blonde swallowed, panic settling into the pit of her stomach; she couldn't let Fritz see any of that and how in the world was she going to accomplish that? He was due back Friday and she hoped he was too tired to start anything or that she had to work late. Or maybe the bruises would fade until then. She would have to wait and see.

No sense in panicking just yet.

Brenda nodded to herself and went for the shower. She turned the water on and just stood before the opened cubicle, hugging herself, waiting until she felt the warm, humid air hit her skin and goose bumps broke out all over her body, hardening her nipples that ached terribly. The blonde got in and closed the door, tentatively stepping under the hot spray.

It hurt all over for a moment then Brenda felt her muscles relax.

She was oddly at ease as she stared at the white tiles, perfectly calm bordering on numb.

She shampooed her head, emptying one of the little shampoo bottles. The soap smelled like any other hotel soap – fresh, mildly flowery – and her skin felt too clean, not smooth enough as she trailed her soapy hands down her body. It stung between her legs, it stung so bad that Brenda bit her lip.

She would feel this for days to come, feel Sharon Raydor inside herself when she walked, stood, sat or did about anything else.

It should not arouse her but it sure as hell did.

Brenda swallowed heavily and rinsed her hair out, feeling better, feeling less like she had had a lot of sex in the past couple hours.

It was a new day and she could finally leave all this behind.

She blow-dried her hair, naked, resigning herself to the fact that she would have to go with messy curls today and then she dressed. Brenda put on that expensive bra she had bought and then fished out the panties she had stuffed into her purse and slipped into them.

The dress she pulled over her head this time, it was easier that way and zipped up.

You almost couldn't see those four little bruises.

Sorting out her hair one last time, Brenda's eyes fell upon her engagement ring and subsequently her wedding band. She had worn in the whole time, hadn't dared take it off and had even imagined how that beautiful diamond had been knocked off the nightstand during their wild coupling and had landed on the ground somewhere, lost.

She had seen herself go home without it and Fritz questioning her about it.

In her fantasy, Brenda had confessed the whole thing, ending their marriage, disappointing her parents and ending up sucked dry, empty, sad and alone.

She hadn't even contemplated taking it off after that.

Before she left, Brenda applied a bit of lipstick, just to make herself a little more presentable then exited the bathroom.

The lamp on the bedside table was still on but Sharon was not in bed anymore.

Brenda blinked, feeling a bit terrified, and looked around. The woman stood at the big picture windows, a sheet wrapped around her, hugging herself, her head tilted to the side a little as she stared out into the early morning sunrise.

The blonde watched her for a moment, drinking in the woman's calmness, her gentle curves that seemed even softer like this in the semi-darkness.

Brenda suddenly felt like an intruder, like a voyeur watching what she knew was a private moment; Sharon was obviously deep in thought, contemplating perhaps her earlier revelation. The blonde cleared her throat gently and put on what she hoped to be an inviting smile.

The brunette turned, eyebrows slightly raised. "There you are," she said quietly, smiling also as she came closer.

They just stared at one another for endless moments until Brenda couldn't take it anymore and averted her gaze.

"Here," Sharon said with an almost-smile in her voice, holding out the Ding Dong they hadn't eaten. "Would be a shame to let it go to waste."

Brenda stared at the silver-wrapped treat, wearing a crooked half-smile then reached out, her eyes connecting with Sharon's as she let their fingertips brush just so. She felt the familiar sizzle, the spark that always ignited a fire within her belly but Brenda was intent on ignoring it.

The night was over.

She looked down at the cake once she held it in her hand and smiled reminiscently then put it in her purse, right on top of her panties. Brenda faltered for a moment, knowing somewhere in the back of her mind that she would keep that Ding Dong as a souvenir and take it out on occasion just to look at it and remember.

Funny, she thought, how quickly something you waited for the longest time can be over.

"Well," she said, putting a smile on her face. "I guess I should get goin'…"

Sharon nodded once, her features open and inviting which was rare for the woman. "I have to get ready for work soon, so…" She trailed off and almost lifted her arm to look at her watch but she wasn't wearing one.

"Me too," said Brenda and sighed lightly, waiting for some sort of cue from the woman on how to end this but Sharon stood before her mirroring her slight uncertainty. "Um, alright then…" They, simultaneously, moved toward the door and this time Sharon opened it for her. The woman clutched the sheet a bit tighter to her chest as they stood there, door halfway open, staring at one another like complete and utter idiots.

"Well…thank you, it's been nice…" Brenda babbled, smiling then her face fell.

"I was hoping that you were not going to say that," Sharon responded evenly.

Me too, Brenda thought and nibbled on her lower lip.

So, this was it.

It was over.

She had to leave.

"Okay, um…bye."

"Bye."

Brenda smiled again and looked the woman over one more time. "See ya."

Raydor nodded slowly, looking like she wondered why the blonde wasn't the hell out of the door yet.

Brenda had her reasons and she was being silly because she had just spent the night with the woman. The blonde took a deep breath, stepped forward and kissed Sharon one last time. She wove her fingers through her hair and pulled her against her mouth ferociously, vowing that she would never ever forget this because it was that one little thing she truly had to herself.

It was liberating.

And later that day she would have to start living without it.

She shouldn't be pining over something that had barely ended, she shouldn't feel that yearning she always felt in the pit of her stomach when she licked the last crumb of chocolate from her fingertip.

The door fell shut behind Brenda and she found herself pushed up against it.

"Nnn—no, no, no…" Brenda tore her lips away and allowed Sharon to kiss along her jaw for a tiny little moment. It was barely five so the night wasn't completely over, or was it? "No…I, I have to, have to-" The blonde whimpered as the woman nibbled on that spot just below her ear.

Raydor was just impossible! And Brenda was still mad at her too…

How dare she leave all those marks on her!

"I have to leave," Brenda pushed on the woman's delicate shoulder and wriggled around, grasping at the door handle as if it were her lifeline. She opened the door, one inch, two inches, she would get out of this without escalating things but boy, did she want to escalate!

The door slammed shut and Brenda found her right hand twisted around to her back, a police maneuver that did actually hurt, especially when one fought it, and then found herself pressed up against the door.

Brenda didn't fight, at all, yet her muscles remained tense, ready for all eventualities or so she thought. Sharon stood behind her, closing the distance between them and pressed her warm body sexily along her backside. The blonde breathed shallowly, suppressing the urge to pant and shook with the effort of it.

She closed her eyes for a moment as Sharon leaned in a bit more, her crotch a perfect fit for Brenda's butt that she wanted to thrust back against the woman but refrained from doing so with all her might. The blonde bit her lip and opened her eyes slowly as Sharon's breath ghosted along the back of her neck. The woman was torturing her and she was quite good at it too.

Brenda breathed harshly in anticipation, her bottom lip still caught between her teeth as she waited for the woman to make her next move.

A warm and silky wet tongue teased the shell of her ear; Brenda shuddered, feeling that unmistakable sharp, uplifting sensation in her belly. Sharon hummed indulgently, her free hand gathering some of the material of Brenda's dress, slowly pulling it up her thigh.

"You forgot your coat…" The brunette husked.

Brenda saw it from the corner of her eye, draped over the backrest of the big overstuffed chair.

"Then why don't you get it for me?" She tried unsuccessfully.

Sharon said nothing but trailed her warm hand along Brenda's inner thigh slowly. There wasn't much space to navigate with the way the blonde was standing and she sure as hell wouldn't move…

…even though she kind of wanted to but staying would be wrong, she had already closed the matter, had been on her way out, back to her life without Captain Sharon Raydor whom she had no problem leaving behind in a hotel room.

The brunette's fingertips danced over her panties, teasing her with feathery touches that tickled maddeningly along her outer lips. Brenda gritted her teeth, willing her body to not respond to any of that, willing her mind to go other places, somewhere far, far away to Georgia, to the waffle house she had always loved so much, to peach trees and humidity and heat waves that-

Brenda suppressed a gasp and shivered as Sharon's fingertips slid into her panties and started to slowly, very slowly and gently dance and tease around her clit.

"I, I, I really…I should, I have to-" There wouldn't come anything out of her mouth that made even remotely sense, not that it mattered much anyway because Brenda knew the woman wouldn't stop just because she babbled on about how bad she had to get out of that room before she ended up with her legs spread and Sharon Raydor doing her right there up against the door.

To Brenda's utter dismay, the woman found the exact spot she had to circle in order to melt the blonde's resolve instantaneously, of course the sensation was magnified by the silky wetness pooling between her thighs and which Brenda wouldn't forgive her traitorous body for any time soon.

She leaned heavily against the door, somewhat resigning herself to the fact that she wouldn't make it out of that room in the next five minute which was how long Brenda gave herself before she would come no matter what the woman decided to do to her.

Of course Brenda couldn't help but put up somewhat of a fight, one last attempt at freedom. "I have…this meetin' today," she spoke slowly, very slowly, her lips moving silently until she completely trailed off, the resistance crumbling as Raydor whispered urgently into her ear.

"One more," she said, "Just one more before you leave."

One more? Brenda thought brokenly just like she had the last time and the time before that when she hadn't been sure that there was another one in her just to be proven wrong.

Well, she thought, it was only five, not even six yet and she could stay until the night was truly over and have just one more she could hang on to and float about upon for the rest of the day.

Just like a good piece of chocolate.

Like sugar.

Brenda shifted, granting the woman's fingertips better access, and tilted her head a little, leaning it against the door, offering her neck to the woman's lips. Sharon didn't take the invitation, she seemed to purposefully ignore it, instead she swirled her fingertips around, her touch feathery light.

Brenda shuddered involuntarily, her body reacting to the maddening intensity of the woman's caresses that were so soft and gentle that they left her shaking, shuddering and yearning for more.

Sharon kissed her bare shoulder, nibbled and bit her way closer to her neck and circled her velvety tongue over her skin. Brenda felt herself get even wetter than she already was, her pulse pounding between her legs so hard that it almost embarrassed her because, surely, the woman could feel it too.

The blonde gasped as she felt Sharon's fingers dip into her opening, giving her a taste before they withdrew again. Then Brenda felt one of the woman's fingers slide down the length of her center and back. She shuddered violently, her nails scratching at the wooden door; it was torture, sweet, sweet torture and it went on and on and on. Even in her wildest dreams Brenda had never imagined that her Captain could do these things to her.

Sharon Raydor had exceeded her expectations.

Breathing heavily, Brenda squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on that very tip of Sharon's finger, hoping that consciously paying attention every time the woman slid her finger over that nub in agonizing slowness, would somehow be enough and make her come but it didn't, not even close, Brenda realized and gritted her teeth.

She refused to move, she refused to move her hips and meet the woman's hand, she refused to beg for it. Brenda bit her lip that felt almost numb and panted through her nose while her body shook under Sharon's ministrations.

Oh, that woman! That awful woman! The blonde pried her eyes open and thrust her butt right into the woman's crotch.

"Mmm," Sharon hummed against her neck and nuzzled her hair which was incentive enough to do it again but Sharon wasn't one to be toyed with.

The woman forced her harder against the door with little effort and pushed two fingers inside in one smooth, perfect move that Brenda had not at all seen coming. The blonde's lips parted in a silent cry and her hand shot down between her legs, grasping at the woman's arm.

Brenda was sure that she wanted it to stop, she wanted to slow the woman down, prevent her from treating her like this but she was wet and she needed it and it felt good despite that little bit of hurt or perhaps because of it, the blonde had little time to dwell on it as Sharon pushed her warm body against her back, the sheet slipping, exposing her breasts and her hard nipples that poked into Brenda's skin.

Sharon released her arm, the blonde wouldn't protest anymore, they both knew it, and reached around, palming Brenda's breast through the dress and bra. She waited in poised anticipation, breathing heavily through her nose, afraid of what the woman might do to her yet barely able to contain her impatience.

The brunette whispered, her warm, moist lips moving feathery light against Brenda's neck, "One more."

Brenda swallowed, feeling the woman's fingers inside of her yet unable to move.

"Ready?" Sharon husked against her ear.

Ready? The blonde bit down on her lip and nodded deliriously.

The woman squeezed her breast one last time then her hand dropped to Brenda's hip. Sharon moved her own hips, slowly, steadily, her fingers moving back and forth inside the blonde at an insanely leisurely pace.

Brenda groaned.

"I can't believe how wet you are already." Raydor smirked against her ear. "It turns you on when you have to do as I say, doesn't it?"

It did not, Brenda thought contritely while almost simultaneously basking in the feel of the woman's hips pushing her forward again, her fingers burying themselves deeply inside. Alright, she would play the game, let the woman lead but not with at least a little something in return.

Brenda reached for the hand on her hip, dragged it back to her chest and squeezed, making it quite clear what she wanted.

"That what you need?" Sharon almost cooed, palming her breast, squeezing it and seeking out her nipple hidden under all those layers of fabric and pinched it, hard.

Brenda whimpered; it was exactly what she needed. She felt Sharon's teeth graze her skin, the woman was careful not to mark her, not that she hadn't already, but Brenda wished she would leave her mark upon her and she knew that Sharon wanted it too.

The brunette kissed her neck sloppily, slipping as well, losing her mind in that endless seeming pool of want they had for each other. Brenda knew she wouldn't last, not that she could take much more of this anyway, and pushed harder against the hand between her legs, willing the woman to go faster or harder or anything, really, to stop that maddening ache, that impossible need and desire to not only come but for the woman to make her come.

There was a difference, Brenda thought and squeezed again, her hips moving gently in sync with Sharon's.

It was then that she felt the diamond of her engagement ring dig into the skin of her inner thigh. What followed the sting was a moment of intense clarity – she was in a hotel room being fucked from behind, up against a door, by her subordinate, a fellow police officer who also happened to be a woman.

She was cheating on her husband with the most aggravating person she had ever met and she rather enjoyed herself doing it.

What an awful-

"I can still smell your come on me…"

Brenda's eyes shot open.

"…and taste it in my mouth."

Her fingernails dug into the woman's hand, she moaned Sharon's name and came just like she had a couple hours ago when the woman had sucked her into her mouth so hard that the sensation alone had caused Brenda to have an orgasm of epic proportions that had pushed her to the brink of consciousness.

* * *

"Bye!"

"Bye, Brenda," Sharon said and smiled at her in that approving, almost affectionate way.

The blonde smiled back, feeling a bit like a school girl as she stepped out into the hallway, this time wearing her coat. "Alright, then…" She felt it ending, she felt the door closing, she felt like she could finally close that chapter of her life.

Raydor had been right all along.

And of course she wouldn't let the woman in on that little piece of self-awareness any time soon.

"See ya…" The door fell shut.

From there on Brenda's day did not only start fantastic but went on in the same fashion starting with the warm, yellow, gentle rays of sunlight tickling her nose as she stepped out of the hotel.

Life was great, she thought on her way to the car. She felt great, amazing, fresh, vibrant, new, rejuvenated!

She smirked all the way back to her house even though she made a wrong turn and realized that she was rather hungry while she was lost. At home she went through all the cupboards for the perfect breakfast ingredients and started off with a bowl of Twinkies chunks, cereal and milk.

She yearned for bacon or pancakes or, better yet, waffles but Fritz wasn't here and he did all the cooking – Brenda managed to ruin the most basic of meals which did not keep her from trying her luck with the bacon.

One piece stuck to the pan and burned a little, stinking up the whole house which Joel commented on with countless meows that drove Brenda just insane while she tried to juggle all the tasks at hand.

In the end though Brenda chewed on a piece of bacon with a smug grin.

Her gaze fell upon the blinking light of their answering machine. Ugh, Brenda thought, probably her mother who wanted to inquire about their plans for Christmas, yet again and it was way too early for that. Still, Brenda pressed the button and listen.

"Hey, it's me," Fritz said. "You're probably asleep right now so I called the landline to not wake you up. Uh, just wanted to say hi, let you know that things are going great here. I'll try call you tomorrow-"

There was a voice in the background, interrupting him.

"Today. It's way past midnight in LA too, Fritz."

It was a woman and for a moment Brenda felt insanely jealous.

"I'll try call you later today," Fritz said with a smile in his voice. "Okay. Honey, I love you and I'll definitely see you Friday. Bye."

* * *

Brenda swiped her key card and thought about Sharon one last time, how she had drawn sounds and words from the woman's mouth that the people beyond that door wouldn't be able to imagine in their wildest dreams.

Sharon Raydor had a bit of a potty mouth and Brenda was sure she would unwillingly recall the woman curse in the throes of passion for some time now.

The blonde swept into the murder room, a smirk threatening to overtake her features that she thought she had carefully schooled upon entering. She should adopt a more somber expression; Brenda bit her lip and took a breath, she was at work, she was on a case, she was ready, serious, prepared.

Perfectly acceptable expression for an ordinary Thursday.

"Good mornin', everyone!" Her gaze fell on the white board Provenza was currently decorating with a series of motor boat pictures.

"That one," he said and pointed at a picture. "It's old school-"

"Just like you," Julio threw in, grinning before being glared at. "Sir."

"Old school flies with the ladies," He waved them all off as they started chuckling. "Good morning, Chief…pictures of all the boats our Mr. Matthews owns," he said presenting them to her with a grand gesture.

"Oh," Brenda said, her glazed over eyes taking in the photographs. "How nice," she went on. "I like that one too, Lieutenant."

Provenza lifted his eyebrows at the squad. "See? Old school is the new school."

The blonde nibbled on her lip and for a moment it was like she could still taste Sharon on them, as if the woman's scent had imbedded itself in her nostrils and was infusing her system with sweet, sweet warmth.

Then her eyes fell on none other than that awful Matthews fella who was sitting in a chair in her office, glancing at his watch impatiently. "What is that—that," she bit down on an expletive and instead pronounced her next words accordingly, "That…_man_ doin' in my office?"

"Well," Flynn stood, shrugging, "He came in about half an hour ago, demanding to speak with you regarding the LAPD's, uh, _harassment_ of his person. We thought we better stick him into your office before he sees that we've taken pictures of his entire maritime fleet."

Brenda scoffed, "We should arrest him on the spot. You know what?" She turned to Gabriel, smiling, "That's exactly what we're gonna do."

"We?" Gabriel asked, grinning also, as did Tao…and Sanchez for that matter.

What was up with them?

"Chief," Provenza started nonchalantly, "If you don't mind my saying but, you're in an awfully good mood this morning."

She was?

"Really?" Brenda schooled her features, having just noticed that she was grinning.

"Yeah," Flynn commented, "You're downright glowing, Chief."

Of course she knew where this was going, she was neither naïve nor particularly dense, although, admittedly, she did have her moments.

"So, how's Agent Howard doing?"

That was as far as the game would go, Brenda decided and glared at Flynn with a raised eyebrow, knowing she would have to answer because Gabriel knew, he knew Fritz was not home. She was just about to retort when Tao interrupted her.

"Is he arresting some drug dealer? And some weapons dealer?" He squinted. "And some big-shot in a human trafficking ring?"

"How do you know about that?"

Tao turned around, nodding towards his computer screen where cameras were capturing an FBI raid that, as it looked, had gone rather successfully. Amidst the people, the flashing lights and cameras was Fritz, looking as if the whole circus didn't impress him in the least – Brenda often wondered if it was required to have that look down pat when graduating the FBI academy.

The blonde lifted her eyebrows at Flynn, giving him one of her own looks and put both her hands on her hips. "I am not glowin'," she said and hoisted her purse further up on her shoulder, nodding toward her office. "Anyone have a pair of handcuffs?"

* * *

"That is the longest perp walk I've ever seen!"

Fritz shrugged nonchalantly. "We had to make it look good…"

Brenda shook her head, smiling as she watched footage of the raid on the TV Fritz had installed in their living room.

"Hey, maybe I should perp walk you to the bedroom? I hear I'm pretty good at it?"

The blonde turned back to the couch and found Fritz dangling a pair of handcuffs from his fingertip that he had obviously found in her purse.

"Oh, shoot!" Brenda cursed. "I meant to give those back to Detective Gabriel yesterday!"

Fritz lifted an eyebrow. "Gabriel?" He wondered and sat up. "Is there something I should know?"

Of course there was.

Brenda snatched the cuffs and dumped them in her purse. "No perp walkin' in here," she admonished, feeling irrationally bad, feeling as if she kind of deserved to be perp walked right out of the house but then she looked at Fritz and felt overcome with something entirely other than guilt.

The blonde felt immensely grateful that she was here with her husband, with the guy who loved her more than anyone had ever loved her.

For a split second she imagined her life without him but with somebody like Raydor instead, with meaningless sex in hotel rooms and empty conversations.

To hell with Raydor!

"I love you…"

Fritz blinked. "I love you too."

Brenda dropped her purse and nibbled on her lower lip coyly before saying, "Meet me in the bedroom?"

"You bet!"

* * *

Brenda unbuttoned her sweater as quickly as her shaking hands would allow. She shrugged out of it hastily then pulled her top right over her head and turned around. She drew her hair aside and let her eyes sweep up and down her back. Just to make sure she unhooked her bra as well and searched frantically for the bruises Sharon…Raydor had left behind.

Nothing. Perhaps she saw some faint yellow spots but she could very well imagine those in her panicked state of mind.

The blonde discarded of her skirt as well and turned around just to make absolutely sure that there was nothing left of Sha-of Raydor, she even looked at her nipple more closely than she had in a very long time.

Her body looked fairly bruise-free. Not entirely or so Brenda thought but Fritz wouldn't see any of that in the semi-dark bedroom.

She breathed a sigh of relief put her bra back on properly, arranging her breasts, making sure they sat perfectly in the cups and were presented as sexily as a plain black bra would allow.

Brenda grinned at herself as she mussed her hair a little; she had missed Fritz. It wasn't because he had been away for a couple days really but rather the fact that she had been very preoccupied with thoughts of Raydor for a really long time.

Even when they had had sex.

And Brenda did feel bad about that, honestly, but that was over now.

This actually felt good.

There was a knock on the door that opened immediately thereafter. Fritz poked his head in, his eyebrows climbing his forehead as he saw Brenda's state of undress. "Uh," he said and came in, holding up her cell phone.

"You look amazing, honey," he put an arm around her nibbled on her neck. "Guess who's on the phone?"

"Who?" Brenda wondered immediately.

Fritz drew back and held the phone up between them with a pained expression. "That woman…"

The blonde's heart stopped. She swallowed while simultaneously trying to look as not-guilty as possible. She took the phone, tried to keep her body from shaking in Fritz's arms and pushed the 'Talk' button.

"Yes, Captain?" Her voice almost betrayed her.

"Chief," Raydor said on the other end, the business-like tone reassuring Brenda somewhat. "I'm afraid we have a bit of a situation here."

Brenda extricated herself from Fritz's embrace and breezed into the bedroom. "What kind of situation?"

"Well, Lieutenant Flynn just called me to inform me of the shooting he has just been involved in-"

"Shootin'?"

"I'm at the crime scene right now-"

"Crime scene?" Brenda walked into her closet. "Why was I not informed-"

"Chief!" Raydor breathed in on the other end. "Lieutenant Flynn is being rushed to the hospital right as we speak…"

Brenda swallowed.

"He has sustained several knife wounds, none of which seemed to be life threatening but I'm sure you would want to be there when he wa-"

"Where?" She pulled a white top from a shelf.

"Hollywood Presbyterian."

The blonde picked up a short, pinkish cardigan from the floor, one hand already in the white top. "Thank you, for callin'…Captain."

"My pleasure, Chief. Oh, and I will keep you apprised of any further developments."

Brenda glanced at Fritz and pressed the phone tighter against her ear. "Bye, Cap'n Raydor."

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** So, I've made two parts out of this chapter, it would've ended up way too long, plus I haven't got everything finished yet so it would be mean to keep this from you even though it's not all that great and nothing much is happening but still...Wow, long sentence.

ithinkyourewonderful: Haha, I assure you, there's hardly anything proper about me :) I do admit that I like the 'old school' very much but it's really just a 'taking-the-time' kind of thing where I sit down and spend an hour and a half with my own thoughts or having great conversations or reading a book or whatever. Plus, I am a little too femme-y to pull off the tie and the hat and the dispensers...however, it has not kept me from trying :P Anyway, thank you for your review, as always, it's very much appreciated and thanks to you and all that cocktail talk, I have started dreaming of drinking a Ward 8 (only a dash of o, I'm more into sours). Gosh, I have to mix one...

tayryn: Hehe, I'm glad you liked the first line :P I hope though that Sharon's confession wasn't too sad, I always try to make her not too dramatic - I'm afraid of venturing into the melodramatic and if I ever do, please let me know, k? Soooo, you liked the door sex? Good, ha. Also, it shall be my new goal in life (part-time anyway) to write turn-on-worthy smut for you...however, good things come to those who wait, so...sorry...nothing hot happening for a bit :( Btw, I'm currently going over all the past chapters again etc, rewriting tiny bits and then I will post on your comm. I'm slow, but I'm getting there, promise :)

moxcar2010: Yes, there will be a Sharon chapter where everything is happening from her point of view. I know, it must be frustrating to read from Brenda's POV when your favorite character in this is Sharon, I haven't thought that really through when I started this fic but then again, you'll get to know Sharon like Brenda does and there might be surprises along the way. I hope you can hang in there..? :)

myIllusion: Um...yes. I think it's safe to say that this is going to be epic. There will be longing and cheating and drama and angst, and yes, I will torment these women (and maybe you guys as well) for a lot longer. I've never written truly epic before and I'm kind of surprised myself that I somehow chose this fandom for my first try. You hate that you love this story so much? Hehe, I love that you love this story so much, yep *pats self on back*.

I-Love-Capn-Raydor: Mind-blowing sex part? Thank you, hehe. I promise there will be more, but I won't start with the whole patience thing again, we both know it's not worth the bother :P

KDTB: How awesome is Inertia, right? I'm so hooked on that fic - it's sweet and adorable and the characters are so amazingly developed! Um, a nickname for the ship? Nope, haven't thought of that before, any ideas? Maybe tayryn should make a post over at ooh_that_woman so everyone can chip in and then have a poll. It's rather difficult though now that I've thought about it...what can you do with names like that? Hmm. Oh, yeah, the 'this is my Captain Raydor' scene - priceless! I'm so looking forward to writing that :P

CaityBeloved: I made you blush? Hehe. I quite like that notion and I shall aim to make you blush more in the future, uh huh.

tenearthimps: Hahahaa, yeah, Raydor is awesome :P You're funny though.

You guys, thank you so much for the feedback - I know, I'm very slow and I should comment more also, which I will do in a minute, but thanks for hanging in there, I really, really appreciate it :)

**Chapter Twenty-Three:**

Old Money

"Ma'am, could you please end the call? Cell phones aren't allowed here."

"One second," Brenda held up her finger and meandered toward the elevator. "Get in touch with Sergeant Elliott, please. Cap'n Raydor promised to keep me apprised but we all know how that's worked out in the past, don't we, Detective?" The blonde's eyes swept over the waiting area of the hospital, looking for Provenza.

"And call Detective Sanchez and Lieutenant Tao about Andy's most recent arrests – I know this is FID's case but it couldn't hurt to be a step ahead."

"I'm on it," Gabriel responded.

"Alright then, I'll see you at the hospital in a bit. Bye, Detective." Brenda hung up and went after a nurse that had just rushed past her. "S'cuse me?" The woman didn't even so much as acknowledge her presence. She walked over to the reception desk, unclipping her badge from her pants at the same time. "S'cuse me." She presented the shield. "I'm lookin' for Andrew Flynn, he's been—"

"Chief!"

Brenda turned in the direction of the voice and saw Provenza wave her over, holding onto what looked suspiciously like a pink balloon. The blonde couldn't believe that he had actually beaten her here and had had the time to buy that hideous thing.

"They didn't have anything else in the gift shop," he said tartly as they entered Flynn's room.

When Brenda first saw him lying there on the bed, unconscious, bruises forming on his face, a taped cut on his brow and his mouth slightly open as he snored mildly in his sleep, she felt an intense sense of relief.

He did look bad but it could've been way worse.

"Thirty stitches in his side…the bastard really was out to kill him, Chief." Provenza sat down in one of the chairs provided for visitors, grunting as he leaned back. "They said he should be waking up soon but it looks like Flynn is taking his sweet time." He lifted his eyebrows at the unmoving form. "As always."

Brenda sighed gently and shrugged off her coat. "Don't worry, Lieutenant, I'm sure he's going to be chasin' after the nurses soon enough."

Provenza nodded solemnly and Brenda stared straight ahead.

Well, this was certainly not how she had imagined things would go. In her mind she only saw Raydor in the lobby or crossed paths with her in one of the countless hallways or shared an elevator with her but nowhere in the scenarios she had imagined did they work together amicably only two days after they had had sex.

Oh, hell, Brenda thought tentatively and brought a fingernail to her lips, nibbling on it nervously; this was not going as planned at all.

First things first, she thought and decided to go through all the possible traps she could fall into. Brenda usually wouldn't even go there but there was much at stake, not like all the other times she went out of her way to avoid things, even when doing so wasn't worth the effort.

This was different, it was a real secret and not something Fritz could just stumble upon one day and be mad at her for a couple hours. It wasn't something she could slip up about except of course if she would want to be found out, which she didn't.

When confronted with Raydor she could not do anything weird or say anything odd, she couldn't even afford to look a little funny, there could be no mistakes, not a single one, ever, because if somebody noticed and her slip ups accumulated, this whole thing was certain to blow up and ruin everything.

Brenda swallowed and pressed her lips together; the woman's scent. She would have to ignore it completely. And her legs, she couldn't look at them, or Raydor's lips, her hands, her breasts, her hips, her ass and neck.

Her eyes, that was where Brenda's own would have to be at all times.

There could also be no squirming, no leaning the other way or, worse, leaning closer, when the woman would stand next to her. There could be no inappropriate proximities, no too intimate seeming gestures, no misplaced smiles or inside jokes…which, Brenda realized, they had.

She could not think about sex. She could not remember Raydor naked. She could not blush in the woman's presence.

She could not get aroused by her ever again.

The blonde suddenly felt embarrassed by her own shameful weakness, her inability to just be casual about the whole thing which was exactly what she had asked for to begin with. Besides, she wasn't fifteen anymore, she should be able to act like a grown-up.

And boy, did she hope that Raydor was keeping it together. If the woman so much as looked at her the wrong way, Brenda would stab _her_ and flush _her_ down the toilet, that was for sure.

At least, Brenda thought somewhat begrudgingly, this whole thing distracted her from her very own internal drama. At least she didn't have much time to feel guilty…but instead she felt on edge, bordering on panicked.

"Chief?"

The blonde's eyes snapped to Provenza who hurried to the bed.

"I think he's waking up!"

Brenda was on her feet in an instant and beside Flynn's bed, a hand resting gently on his chest. He moaned in what she assumed to be pain then his eyes fluttered open slowly. He blinked, disoriented, then everything seemed to come back to him and he realized where he was.

"So there is a hell," he mumbled in true Flynn fashion.

"You're not there yet, Lieutenant."

He glared, as well as anyone could in his condition, at the balloon Provenza held onto. "It's the only one they had in the gift shop," he defended his choice or rather lack thereof.

"Yeah, it's okay, doesn't matter 'cause I'm not staying." Flynn tried his best to sit up but didn't get very far.

"Oh, yes you are!" Brenda said and pushed him down gently. "You've got thirty stitches in your side alone. Lay back. Are you comfortable?" The blonde felt awful about the whole thing yet tried to only show a moderate amount of concern, not wanting to mother him too obviously since the thought alone felt incredibly humiliating already.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Chief."

"Good," Brenda said pragmatically, focusing on what was most important at that moment. "'Cause I got some questions for you."

"Like who would wanna kill me?" Andy finished.

"Lots of people, I'm sure, but who would actually go to the trouble."

"No idea…"

"Are you positive you didn't know the guy?" Provenza asked, having tied the pink balloon to the hospital bed.

Flynn glanced up at the ceiling, going through the catalogue of faces in his mind then shook his head. "I've never seen him before in my life," he said and looked at Brenda. "I was leaving an AA meeting when this young man, around 30, came up to talk to me. I mean, he definitely wasn't the attacker. Now, I didn't think anything of it at the time but this newbie hung out until everyone else was gone…"

"Okay, Lieutenant. I'm gonna need to take a peek at the AA log book or sign-in sheet—"

"There is no sign-in sheet…it's anonymous," Flynn explained with mild incredulity. "Hasn't your husband told you about how AA works?"

Brenda blinked; no, Fritz had not but she knew that was more her own fault than his. Of course, he had said that it was his problem, that he wasn't that person anymore but still, Brenda should have asked…but hadn't really wanted to.

"Alright then," Provenza went on. "The guy who was waiting for you, did you at least get his first name?"

"No, I didn't. I watched him walk out and then I went to my car and then…oh, damn, look at me!"

"You should see the other guy."

Brenda stilled as that velvety voice wrapped itself around her. Her lips parted, she heard Sharon moan her name, smelled the woman's sweat-covered skin, her scent mingling with Brenda's own, felt the hot, hot heat as her fingers penetrated the woman…

"Captain Raydor," Brenda managed to say, her voice somewhat wobbly. "Have you found Lieutenant Flynn's attacker?"

"Well, hospital alert didn't show anyone but," she handed Brenda a file, all business, "A Crime Broadcast found a white male, shot in the chest, left by the road in San Bernardino. We ID-ed him as Bobby Harris."

"Never heard of him."

"…misdemeanor car theft," Brenda read, momentarily too stunned at the downright normalcy of the situation to actually make a fool of herself. "Out on probation three days ago." Also, she had to hand it to the woman, her division did work fast and produced results rather quickly.

"I had a detective in San Bernardino email me his photo," Raydor held out her phone which Brenda took.

Their fingertips brushed slightly, the blonde felt her world come to a standstill and then it kept on turning as if nothing ever happened. Well, she thought while showing Andy the photograph of dead Bobby Harris, her Captain…the woman certainly made it easy for her.

Brenda had no idea what she had expected anyway. Inappropriate stares and touches? Nervous glances and awkward smiles? Tantrums and dramas? She was surprised at the apparently smooth transition they had accomplished without even having talked about it.

The blonde's mind drifted back to when her relationship with Will had changed, when they had become closer. He hadn't been worried about the secrecy, the pretending and lying but that didn't mean he had been particularly good at it.

Perhaps women were different contrary to what most thought.

It wasn't so much about keeping the sex and the emotions separated, Brenda concluded, but rather that, for once, no strings attached meant no strings attached.

She was already mentally patting herself and Raydor on the back when the woman did the unthinkable.

"Oh, I should mention," she almost lunged for the phone, leaning into Brenda, "If you positively ID the victim then the case becomes mine, right now. On the other hand, if you don't recognize this man then the case will be investigated by Major Crimes. So, bearing all of that in mind…is this the man that tried to kill you?"

Oh, for heaven's sakes, Brenda thought, the woman let her go first.

* * *

Who on earth would want to kill Flynn?

It was the one question that mattered most, it was the one question Brenda's sole focus should be on but instead she kept wondering why Raydor had stepped back and let her have the first crack at this.

It was rather hard to believe and decidedly unlikely that the woman did her favors now that they had slept together but Brenda couldn't entirely discard the idea just yet.

What was it then, Brenda wondered and nibbled on her pen because the woman hadn't seemed to like her any better after the night they had spent together, so the chances of her being merely nice were slim to none.

Perhaps Raydor speculated on a favor or two herself?

That had to be it.

Maybe she did think she could get something out of their little tryst – how very opportunistic and devious of her, Brenda thought sullenly and opened her candy drawer. She hoped, desperately while shoving the drawer's contents to one side and back, that Raydor would tone it down soon or else people might think that they actually liked one another.

So much so that they had had sex.

Brenda's bottom lip trembled – that silly woman!

The blonde picked up her purse and rummaged around in it, looking for that Ho Ho she knew she had had in her hands that day but couldn't seem to find. Perhaps she had eaten it. Brenda stilled for a moment, recollecting the events of the day which included her Ho Ho breakfast and concluded that she hadn't eaten all of them.

It had to be in there!

Brenda dug in again, her fingers closing around a wrapper. She pulled out and stared in horror at the Ding Dong.

_The_ Ding Dong.

She had emptied the complete contents of her smaller purse, sans her panties, into her bigger purse the day before yesterday.

_Oh, for heaven's sakes…_

Brenda stared at the cake as it rested gently on her palm.

Raydor's smooth body. Her sensuous curves and luscious mane. Her voice strained and hoarse, forming Brenda's name, laden with desire. Her languid, unashamed and almost joyful moan as an orgasm had washed over her for the third time.

_"Oh, yessss, Brenda!"_

The blonde swallowed and dropped the Ding Dong in her candy drawer. She looked at it, stared at it, almost glared at it in the hopes of it disappearing. She shouldn't have brought it to work with her, or rather, she shouldn't have taken it in the first place.

Brenda blushed and closed the drawer, pressing her legs together as she buried her face in her hands and leaned heavily onto her desk. "Ooooh, that woman!" She whined quietly then darted a glance outside just to make sure none of her squad had seen her little episode.

She shook her head, unable to grasp her apparent predisposition for drama. It shouldn't be difficult, not like this, but she was making it difficult and she had to quit that.

Brenda nodded to herself and opened a file that had been lying on her desk for far too long already and began her work.

If Raydor continued to be nice, Brenda would have to address the issue, until then, she wouldn't treat the woman any different.

Perfect plan, she thought and started writing.

Besides, she should be more worried about Fritz anyway.

* * *

Brenda ducked under the hot spray and closed her eyes.

It was past 1:30 already, Fritz was in bed, sleeping and Brenda's mind was going a mile a minute. It had seemed glaringly obvious after Provenza and Gabriel had discovered the money in dead Bobby Harris's apartment that somebody had hired him to kill Andy.

Who would do such a thing?

Who had the motive, means and the opportunity to do so?

Motive was a thing that could easily be established – hell, these days motive seemed a superfluous thing sometimes, people killed for all kinds of things that weren't necessarily important or obvious but hiring a killer?

That was serious.

Brenda stepped out of the shower and toweled her hair; she was tired but somehow the blonde started to feel more like herself again. She pulled a satin slip over her head and blow-dried her hair a little; she had to be at the office at nine tomorrow, having agreed with Commander Taylor upon that time.

The blonde padded into the bedroom, her hair somewhat dry and her body rapidly cooling. She slipped under the covers and scooted towards Fritz.

Brenda found herself staring at him in the very dim light.

"You're lookin' at me like you've never seen me in whole life…"

The blonde swallowed and blinked in the darkness.

"Nothing serious with Flynn I hope..?" Fritz went on sleepily.

"Hmm," Brenda made that small, teary noise then laid down, resting her head on Fritz's bare shoulder. "He's got over thirty stitches…and he looked terrible in that hospital bed…all by himself."

Fritz let his fingers glide soothingly through her hair. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"He's gonna be fine," the blonde said quietly, her voice breaking a little bit. "But it could've just as well turned out the other way." She closed her moist eyes and snuggled into Fritz's side, feeling more at ease.

"…and what about Raydor?"

The blonde bit her lip, her eyes opening immediately – of course he had to bring her up, not that she could hold it against him really; she had told him about the kiss after all. "She's been nice."

"Nice?"

Brenda felt her mind go blank for a moment, something that usually didn't happen, ever, she always had an answer of some kind, truth or lie, but never was she just…blank. "She's bein' nice," Brenda said, "which probably means she's after something."

"Let's just hope it's not you she's after," Fritz responded evenly yet Brenda could feel the underlying tension.

"And even if she were, which she's not, that wouldn't mean anything!" The blonde propped herself up, the lies just slipping from her tongue as if they were nothing because she knew that if she did not make it sound good, she could potentially ruin everything. "I don't care the singlest bit about her," it was the truth, even though there was no such word as 'singlest'.

"I'm not worried about you," Fritz said and it was almost, almost true with just that little bit of doubt left. "I just don't like the fact that the woman is around you…I don't want her to even think that she's got a shot."

"She doesn't," Brenda responded and turned around, fluffing her pillow. "It's somethin' else, I'm sure." For a moment or two she felt Fritz stare at her back then his arm came around her waist and his hand started softly caressing her thigh.

"In case you haven't noticed," he began, "I'm completely naked under the sheets."

Brenda turned onto her back and looked up at him with raised eyebrow. "In case you haven't noticed…I am not." She was testing him but Brenda couldn't help it – if he backed out now, she knew that he had been testing her as well.

"Well," he said, "we can remedy that."

He passed. Brenda pulled him down, relieved, and kissed him.

The next morning, the morning after Brenda had made love to her husband for the first time after she had slept with Sharon Raydor, started off with a small revelation for the blonde.

Almost losing Fritz, which he had no idea about, had reminded the blonde once again of why she loved him so much.

Raydor had been about her, about her needs, perhaps even about her fears, Brenda knew that, she knew that it wasn't really about Fritz. Maybe it was a bit about their marriage, she thought as she stood in the shower again, maybe it was about her need for an out, her fear of being inadequate that had made her stoop down to that level.

The bigger problem for Brenda wasn't the fact that she had slept with Raydor, that she still felt somewhat awkward in her marriage and that with every compromise, every little concession, every time she had to share instead of having the cake all to herself, being married chopped little bits and pieces away of her true self.

No, the bigger problem was that Brenda had been selfish enough to do this horrible thing.

She had been so selfish that she had gone and risked everything, including Fritz's heart, which she knew would break if he ever found out, just to have this one thing to herself.

It made Brenda wonder what else she was capable of, what other things she might want so bad that she was willing to walk all over her marriage and the people she loved.

But lying in bed with her husband, kissing him, smelling him and feeling, for the first time in a very long time, as if everything had fallen back in its place again made what she had done easier to bear. It had been wrong and awful, unforgivable, but somehow Brenda couldn't help but think that maybe it had alleviated her fears somewhat.

She belonged here, she thought and nibbled on Fritz's ear.

She belonged with him, Raydor had made her see that.

"Okay, you broke me," Fritz drawled, grinning and put his arms around her. "…people are telling me, they gonna offer you…Pope's job."

Brenda's face fell.

_That evil, conniving bitch!_

"That's why Captain Raydor let me go first last night!" She rolled out of bed, her good mood suddenly gone.

"You could be her boss – she's doing some preemptive ass-kissing."

"Look, Fritzy, I know you don't like Will but he's my friend, I can never take his job away from him!"

"First of all, you're not taking it, you earned-"

"It's horrible news! Horrible!"

"Do you think Will Pope wouldn't have walked right over you if it meant he could've been Chief?"

Brenda pulled up the zipper of her skirt, wishing that Fritz would've just zipped it as well.

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**SPOILERS FOR EPISODE S06E11 - OLD MONEY**

**A/N: **It's carnival! Honestly, I don't feel so good right now which is completely my own fault, naturally. I hate carnival. I hate that I can't stay home and ignore the whole thing. Ugh. And I feel fat now. Also, I find the idea of Brenda singing some ridiculous 80s pop song hilarious - it was Let's Get Physical or Like A Virgin, so there you have it.

ithinkyourewonderful: Hmm, well, I don't know how cheaters can just go on with their lives. I'm not a cheater which makes me wonder where all this is coming from. It's difficult to write something you don't really know but I hope Brenda's way of dealing with it comes across as believable. Anyway. You have no idea where this is going? Well, I think neither has Brenda. Now I'm curious about your suspicions though...

sitcomgirl09: Aww, I feel so bad for keeping you waiting for so long! Well, I hope you'll like this chapter. As for the Sharon chapter, well, I'm kind of ambivalent about it...I like that she's this mystery :P And, of course I'm not gonna rat you out to your partner, hehe.

Transylvanian: Thanks and I'm glad you're still reading :)

moxcar2010: Thank you very much :) I'm glad you can hang in there - I know it's kind of a slow process, this fic. Also, I am a tease, always :P

KDTB: It's hard to hate Fritz, right? He's such a nice, supportive guy, plus he's the one getting cheated on :P And, please, don't die just yet, haha, that chapter is a little farther down the line. I somehow can't bring myself to reveal too much about her, you know what I mean? Her feelings and thoughts will become more apparent, slowly, I can promise you that. And yes, that Ding Dong's gonna haunt her :P

toomanycats: Hehehe, adult sexy-time, I like that :P I've been building episodes in here and there but not too often lately. Of course, Mary was on more episodes now so I will build them in as best as I can.

tayryn: Well, maybe this chapter will clear things up a little in regards to how Brenda views Sharon's post-sex behavior. I'm going slow, hehe, I guess that's obvious at this point and I can't really have them like each other too much. I thought their relationship was different in Living Proof, right? So, I'm going with that for now.

myIllusion: Yep, Brenda is a very flawed person, that's what I like most about her, that she can still do the things she does despite everything else. Oh, so you want Sharon dating someone else? Hahahaha, seriously? Usually people hate that but, we'll see :) But you're right, Brenda is a Sharon addict and we'll see all that unfold in the next couple chapters. As for the 'conniving bitch' part, well, let's cut Brenda some slack, I mean, she had her brain fried by the woman :P

CaityBeloved: You associate Ding Dongs with sex? I guess my work is done then :P That was the whole point of this fic, uh huh. Can I let you in on something? I've never eaten one of those things, I've never even held one in my hand or smelled it. I can't even remember seeing one when I was in the US - now that's kind of pathetic considering I'm writing about how yummy it's supposed to be.

That just brings me to a question I've wanted to ask for some time: has anyone ever eaten a Ding Dong? I'm just wondering what it's like :P Anyway, have fun reading and I really hope you guys like the new chapter. Thank you very much for all your wonderful feedback!

**Chapter Twenty-Four:**

Nouveau Riche

"Hmm, hmm, hmm physical! I wanna get physical, hmm, hmm, hmm…body talk!" Brenda pulled into her parking space and freed another Peach Chew from its wrapper.

She had stopped at her favorite gas station that carried a vast selection of various sweets and candies just to get them. "Hmm, hmm, animal, animal!" The blonde chewed the Chew and blinked at the radio, her singing – if one could call it that – interrupted by her awareness of the lyrics.

Brenda turned the radio off with a somewhat unnerved expression then gathered her things. She tried stuffing the plastic bag of Peach Chews into her purse, shifting the file she had in there by accident, the case for her reading glasses, her huge wallet that was a purse in itself and the flashlight she had borrowed from Detective Gabriel and had yet to return to him to one side of her purse but couldn't fit the bag.

"Shoot!" She cursed under her breath and took out the flashlight, deciding that it had to remain a hostage of hers for a little while longer.

She stuffed the Peach Chews into her purse but not before having a last one.

"Good morning, Chief," Tao said, standing over a diascope while Provenza hovered over his shoulder as she breezed into Major Crimes.

"Mornin' everyone…"

"We're ready in a minute," Provenza said, urging Tao on. "And where the hell is Taylor? He said he'd be here by nine!"

Brenda merely lifted her eyebrows at Provenza's rather volatile mood that morning and proceeded into her office where she fished the Peach Chews out of her purse immediately after she hung up her coat. The blonde was aware of the fact that Raydor would undoubtedly show up some time during the day with the ballistics' report, the only question was however, what would the woman do then?

Brenda usually would expect her to take over the entire case, question Andy and treat anyone who wanted to help him like an accomplice to his murderous rampage. The conversation she had had with Fritz that morning came back to mind but she knew Raydor was too big a stickler for rules that the woman couldn't disregard them completely in favor of kissing up to what she thought was her future boss.

The blonde munched on her Chews, getting wrappers everywhere as she loathed the inevitable which she should not be wasting so much time on, Brenda thought, because no matter how hard she wished for it, Raydor just wouldn't go away.

She was so mad at the woman!

Taylor walked in, as did Gabriel and Brenda decided that her sudden bout of self-pity would have to wait until later but, to tide her over, she stuffed a couple Peach Chews into her jacket pocket, ignoring the fact that her breath would smell of peaches for the remainder of the day.

* * *

She knew before she even entered the room what was going to leave her mouth. Perhaps she was being irrational or perhaps the history she had with the woman justified her little episode but somehow, somewhere, Brenda knew that maybe she wasn't thinking straight.

"You knew about these charges claimin' that Lieutenant Flynn physically threatening a witness in Rick Zuman's case and didn't say anything about it?" Brenda got right to the point, not anymore concerned about the fact that her breath still smelled of artificial peaches which probably would've gone very well with Raydor's personal scent.

"By law I can't tell you," the woman said, apparently tired of stating the obvious again and again. "Forcefully intimidating a witness is a serious and confidential accusation and we can't just tell the suspect."

Namely Andy, which was exactly what Brenda had expected Raydor to do.

"So you've just been pretendin' to be helpful here so you can investigate Andy, is that right?"

"No, that is not right," Raydor said, looking at her as if she should have known better, which, admittedly, she probably should have considering how well she had gotten to know the woman. But then again, it crossed Brenda's mind fleetingly, sleeping with somebody didn't really enable you to know said person's thought processes and predict their actions.

"I didn't know the Rick Zuman case was connected to the attempt on Lieutenant Flynn's life until today."

"Well, the minute you found out about it, you should have told me," Brenda went on petulantly, suddenly falling back on their old dynamic – it had never really failed them, hadn't it?

"No, I couldn't," Raydor said, keeping the table between them. "Okay, here is how it works: every time we get a defense request for a Pitchess motion we are required, by law, to look into the history of the accused officer's behavior without notifying him or his division. Most officers' packages are about this big," Raydor held up a slim file. "Yours is huge…it's crammed with accusations."

Even Brenda had to admit that Flynn's package (no pun intended) was indeed rather huge…impressively so.

"Exonerated of every charge!"

While the two argued, Brenda pondered her next move; she knew, from experience, that Raydor hadn't just shown up for nothing – the woman was there to collect, clearly. Now the only question was how far Raydor would go to kiss up to her.

Brenda suspected that the Captain thought that she thought that she was being nice because they had slept together which the woman used to her advantage. Anyone in the same situation would worry about the sudden change but not Brenda, she had it all figured out already.

She realized however that if she wanted to get Raydor to bend the rules a little, she would have to stick to them in return, give an inch, gain an inch.

"—we are going to precisely follow the law."

"Okay, here we go," Brenda drawled.

"Yes, here we go. Ballistics' came back. Lieutenant Flynn's bullets did match those in Bob Harris, so this is officially an officer involved shooting. Also, you can no longer participate in the investigation of Rick Zuman because he will claim that you will once again stack the deck against him."

"Hmm," Flynn shook his head. "I'm not leaving."

This was her chance, Brenda realized. "She's right," she said somewhat reluctantly, having never relented like that before, even when it would have been to her own advantage. "You need to go home, get some rest, okay? Let me handle this." She felt Raydor's gaze on her, the woman was surprised and Brenda immediately knew that she had won.

Closing the door and watching Flynn walk away, the blonde chose her next words carefully. "That man, Rick Zuman, tried to kill him."

"If you can prove that, Chief, my witness-tampering investigation of Lieutenant Flynn would be completely over."

"Okay, good, then help me." Brenda was impressed with how professionally they managed to get along, perhaps, in part, because of the distance they had both decided to maintain between them. "Give me everything you have on Floria Stenzel."

Raydor eyed her for a moment, trying to gauge her sincerity, trying to decide how badly this could turn out if Brenda decided to do what she usually did which oftentimes didn't involve the lawful, protocol-abiding way but rather went the straight line toward her goal.

"This is her basic information—" Raydor slid the file across the table and Brenda couldn't help but take an immediate peek inside. "Everything else is confidential and you cannot ask her anything about her upcoming testimony."

"Oh, I'm not gonna ask her anything about anything."

"No?"

"Nope…Floria Stenzel is gonna come talk to me."

* * *

"Captain Raydor still lurkin' about?" Brenda asked as she stepped into the murder room.

"She just left," Buzz said, biting into his sandwich. "You want one, Chief?"

The blonde eyed the pile of sandwiches they had ordered and contemplated getting one when her gaze fell on Andy. She huffed indignantly and advanced on him. "Lieutenant! I told you to go on home! Captain Raydor can't see you here!"

"Oh…" Flynn glanced at the sandwich in his hand. "Can I at least finish this? I mean, she and Agent Howard won't be back for a while anyway, Chief…"

"Fritz, I mean, Agent Howard is with her?"

"Yeah," Flynn shrugged and glanced at Provenza. "She called him and I'm telling you, he wasn't happy about it but who would be, being kept out of the loop for so long, right, Provenza?"

"Now it's my fault the FBI's mad at us? As you can see, I have double the workload now that you've decided you can't even pick up a phone!"

Brenda wanted to intervene but before she really could, her feet carried her into her office. She didn't even make it around her desk, no, she merely reached over it and clutched the Peach Chew bag to her chest. She ate about three, maybe four…or five, while she stared at the phone.

Her heart pounded violently.

She picked up the receiver.

Her hand was shaking.

She dialed and held her breath and gritted her teeth, her nostrils flaring.

"Yes?"

Brenda didn't even lift an eyebrow at the unusual greeting, her anger having taken over control long ago. "Why did you call Fritz?"

There was a slight pause on the other end then Raydor responded evenly, "Because I had to."

"You could've at least told me about it!"

"Listen…_Honey_. This is a really bad time for me right now because I'm on official police business here, okay?"

Brenda blinked and licked her lower lip while she figured it out. "You're in the car with him?"

"That's right."

"Well," the blonde said quietly, "Just make sure you're not doin' anything suspicious."

"You mean like _you_ are, right now?" Raydor apparently couldn't help the slight jab which, Brenda thought, she might actually deserve because she was acting like a nut.

"Fine," Brenda said contritely and tore the wrapper off a Peach Chew. "Fine." She stuffed it in her mouth. "Well-"

"I really have to go," Raydor interrupted. "Goodbye."

The blonde chewed slowly, staring at the phone. The woman had hung up on her, again! No matter, Brenda thought and put the receiver down, replacing it with the bag of Peach Chews that she somehow, subconsciously and quite by accident, really, carried into the murder room.

So, Raydor was out there with Fritz. So what?

She walked up to the board and studied their case, completely overlooking Andy who was kind of hiding, kind of not, due to his injuries, behind Provenza's desk who apparently could part with it once in a while.

They would soon have the money, hopefully with matching serials and get Zuman for money laundering and murder, all she had to do was to get him to admit that it was indeed his money. Brenda nodded slightly and put her hand in the never ending seeming bag of Chews.

Raydor was right – she had to call Fritz since Brenda had neglected to do so.

The blonde's lower lip quivered, worried that Fritz might think the exact same thing right at that moment while sitting in a car with Raydor.

She unwrapped a Peach Chew and ate it right away.

It wasn't really about the Captain because if Brenda could trust the woman with anything, it was that she wouldn't breathe a word about this whole affair-about this whole thing, the blonde corrected herself.

It was more about Fritz because he was a smart man and he knew Brenda rather well, that was what had the blonde so worried. What if he wondered why she hadn't called?

Well, Brenda thought, she would have to play this differently if she didn't want him to notice anything because, by the look of things, the only person messing things up was her; Raydor seemed to be remarkably well, she was downright amazing at this, a much better liar than Brenda would have anticipated.

Lying had never seemed to be Raydor's thing; scheming – maybe, but lying – no, not so much. She was rather good at presenting the simple truth dramatically and quite brutally. Provoking emotional outbursts, that was Raydor's skill which she had demonstrated plenty on Brenda herself.

_Ooooh, that woman!_

"Chief?"

Brenda startled and almost dropped the bag.

"You alright?"

The blonde blinked at Flynn then glared. "Lieutenant, what on earth are you still doing here? If Captain Raydor sees you, she'll get so mad at you," Brenda said and almost immediately felt a little silly.

"Or stick her broom up your-"

"Lieutenant!" Brenda screeched before Provenza could say any more.

"Look," Flynn said and shrugged a little. "I'm not doing anything and the case is almost over and done with anyway."

"Then what reason do you have for toiling about the office when you should be home, restin'?"

"Well, Chief…" He was making things up on the spot. "At home I'd just feel sorry for myself…"

She glared. "If you have to stay, wouldn't it be better to hide somewhere?"

Flynn shrugged again. "Oh…you actually meant that when you told me to go home?" He asked nonchalantly.

The blonde rolled her eyes and noticed, as she took a step forward, that she had dropped several Peach Chew wrappers. "Just…" She tore one of them off her heel. "Just, stay there."

"Sure…it's not like I don't start sweating when I do all those physically challenging things like, say, walking around or-"

"Lieutenant," Brenda whined suddenly then immediately felt bad.

Things with Raydor were like they had always been and that should be a comfort, shouldn't it? Same old, same old…

The blonde clutched the bag, which everyone seemed to stare at, to her chest and marched into her office.

* * *

Before Brenda could clamp her mouth shut firmly, the words were already tumbling from it. "So, what's been goin' on? Why have you been so nice?"

Raydor slowed for a moment, looking for the right lie to tell, Brenda knew that much already, plenty enough actually to know that the woman wasn't genuine. "I could ask you the same…"

"I've been nice?" The blonde wondered incredulously.

The Captain made a face. "No," she said, looking like the truth was just forcing its way out even though she tried, hard, to keep on being nice. "But cooperative!" Raydor smiled a little, that smile she had put on for Brenda especially. "I had a thought," she said, "While Chief Delk is completing his transition plans, maybe you and I could figure out a way for FID and Major Crimes to better share their cases…say…over, uh, I dunno, working-lunch."

"Lunch?"

"Great! I'll set it up!"

That awful, awful-

"Oh, Agent Howard," Raydor bumped, quite literarily, into him on her way out. Brenda cringed, just her luck. "By the way, nice working with you, it's great."

The blonde watched Raydor suck up to her husband while something seemed to click in her mind.

"And you, Captain."

She left, thankfully. Maybe she should have told Raydor that she had told Fritz of their kiss…and their attraction? For a moment Brenda felt bad about it but realized that doing such was completely inane, things were going fantastic just like they were, no need messing it up.

"Everything alright?"

Brenda sat slowly, refusing to stare at Fritz for too long. "I think so. Yes."

"I know you don't wanna hear this," he said and opened her candy drawer. For a moment Brenda panicked, worried he might pick out the Ding Dong but he didn't. He also didn't touch the Peach Chews, something the blonde felt rather relieved about. "But, uh, you should really start thinking about which of Pope's drawers you wanna fill up with candy."

"That's not funny." It really wasn't. It wasn't so much about Will and his job even though it was sad and terrible, but more about the fact that Brenda experienced an inner panic by merely thinking about having to do his job.

"Brenda, c'mon," Fritz said. "It'd be great. And besides, think about it, if someone less qualified takes over for Pope you'll be miserable."

Right, she thought, an idea slowly coming together in her head.

"So get ready. One day, sooner than you think, Chief Delk's gonna offer you the job of Assistant Chief of Police…so you better figure out what you want," Fritz said, his voice a mere murmur in the sea of voices currently residing in Brenda's head.

She stared at Flynn, he gave her one of his boyish grins and joined up with the rest of the squad.

There was an instant quiet in Brenda's head. "I already know what I want," she said. She didn't want that job.

"And what's that?" Fritz wondered nonchalantly.

The blonde grinned and closed the door, locking it. "Five more minutes," she answered playfully and swayed towards her desk where Fritz was sitting. She gently lowered herself onto his lap, putting her arms around his shoulders in the process and immediately went for that spot on his neck that always made him smile.

"You're too good at this," he murmured.

"At kissing?"

Fritz glanced at her. "At extracting information…"

"There's more?" Brenda wondered immediately, half serious, half not.

"Hmmm," Fritz hummed and caressed her thigh. "No…but if there was, I would tell you as long as you kept doing that."

"Doing what?" The blonde teased, nibbling on a different spot. "This?" She nosed her way to his ear. "Or this?"

Fritz chuckled as her breath tickled along his neck. "You know what?" He said suddenly. "I think I can finally quit worrying about Raydor."

Brenda paused, blinked then kissed along his jaw until she could look him in the eye, hoping he would go on, hoping she wouldn't just needle him for more details, hoping she could keep a straight face.

"The woman is sooo over you," he stated dryly, his eyes barely open. "Not interested in you the slightest bit…plus, I think she's got a boyfriend...or girlfriend. Whatever it is in her case."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Fritz said and nodded. "You can work with her as much as you like, honey."

Brenda glared at him, although mildly and said, "I can always work with her as much as I like."

"You know what I mean…"

She nodded and grinned. "Still…" The blonde lowered her lips to his neck again. "I'm glad we're finally over this…" She nibbled on that spot again, an immense amount of relief washing over her.

It wouldn't do to have Fritz worry about Raydor because, as far as Brenda was concerned, there was nothing to worry about. He would never find out, she would make sure of that and she hoped that while she tried to quit worrying about Raydor also, Fritz wouldn't waste another thought to the whole thing.

He deserved better than having to worry about another woman stealing his wife from him; after all, Brenda thought, that would never happen anyway.

* * *

"Chief?"

Brenda looked up at Provenza who poked his head in. She hadn't heard him knock and she was sure that he had but her latest preoccupation – forming a plan on how to keep Will where he was and her squad intact – had Brenda a little distracted, even on an early Tuesday mornings such as this one.

"I finished the report…for FID," he entered fully, holding up the file. "I will need a copy of the FBI's report…" He trailed off, his eyes sweeping over her crammed desk.

"You finished it already?" Brenda wondered out loud, chewing on her Skittles as she lifted files and folders in search of the elusive FBI report. "I told you to stay home yesterday, Lieutenant!"

"Well," Provenza came closer, shrugging his shoulders, "I couldn't let that one sit on my desk all day Monday."

The blonde nodded slowly because she understood – Flynn was his friend, his partner and Provenza was just doing everything he could to make it right for him. "Oh…here it is," she handed him the report Fritz had handed her yesterday evening.

"Thank you, Chief." Provenza nodded, now a little more enthusiastic. "I'm just gonna copy this and hope that the Wicked Witch doesn't catch me in her lair when I drop it off."

Brenda sent a mild glare his way. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't just call her that, Lieutenant."

"Ah, Chief," he waved her off, "I'm sure she doesn't mind…in fact, I think she even likes it."

The blonde smirked. "You know what, Lieutenant?" She rose from her chair. "I'm goin' to deliver that report because I have a bone to pick with her anyway."

Provenza shrugged and handed over the report. "Finally figured out what she's been up to?"

"Somethin' like that," Brenda mumbled on her way out.

* * *

She had never been down there, or rather up there here in the new building. In all her years with the LAPD Brenda had never set foot in the offices of Internal Affairs, let alone the Force Investigation Division.

They were way up, almost practically on the roof and Brenda, as soon as she stepped off the elevator, treasured the relative silence in the hallways. She used her key card on the door labeled Internal Affairs and stepped inside yet another hallway.

In that moment she had no idea where she was or where she had to go.

Brenda opened the first door on the right, her ears almost immediately assaulted by a cacophony of ringing phones, voices, clipping of keyboards and office chairs sliding over the linoleum floor. Brenda found herself in a large room that seemed incredibly small due to the mass of cartons that were, literally, stacked under the ceiling and filled with file folders.

She looked around and caught a man's gaze. "FID?" She asked loudly.

The man with sandy hair, loosened tie and the phone pressed against his ear pointed in a general direction. "Down the hall!"

The blonde closed the door, clutched the report she was about to deliver to her chest and proceeded further down the hall towards a set of glass doors which were labeled Force Investigation Division in big, bold letters.

As soon as she stepped inside she heard a bit of a commotion.

Brenda pursed her lips and tiptoed down the little corridor then peeked into the office space. A door slammed forcefully, rattling the blinds of a small office then the door opened again and Raydor stepped out.

The man who had slammed the door turned, his finger pointed right at the woman and then he said, "You're gonna pay for this!"

Brenda recoiled slightly at the venom in his voice yet Raydor stood there, head tilted, arms crossed over her chest and looking like she was waiting out the tantrum of a little child.

The guy's head went even redder if that was possible and then he spat, "Bitch!" His last parting-shot apparently before he breezed past the first desk which happened to be Sergeant Elliott's.

"Sergeant Brown," Raydor admonished one of her own people who looked about ready to tackle the guy to the ground then the Captain turned and walked back into her office as if nothing had happened.

The red-faced guy however breezed past Brenda, exuding rage and if he could have, he probably would have slammed the glass doors also.

"Chief Johnson?"

Brenda turned back around, fixing her eyes on Sergeant Elliott as she took a tentative step into Raydor's domain. "Hello…Sergeant."

"Chief, uh, can I help you?"

"Um," Brenda glanced about at the faces in the room. "I was just here about the, um, oh, there she is," the blonde swayed towards Raydor's office, the woman occupying it already trailing her progress.

She really should not have come here. How stupid. Brenda rolled her eyes inwardly. Stupid. Why couldn't she help creating problems for herself?

Too late to think about that now though.

Brenda stepped into the office timidly, using the file as a shield as she neared the desk.

"Chief Johnson?" Raydor said, barely-there smirk firmly in place. "What a surprise! I was just about to call you."

"You were?" Brenda wondered like a little girl, the woman drawing her in immediately. "What about?"

"Lunch."

The blonde glared mildly and sat. "Are you really gonna go through with the whole thing because I'm telling you, Captain, there's no need for niceties, I'm not takin' the job, so you might as well go back to bein' aggravatin'."

"What job?" Raydor asked unnecessarily.

"Not worth lyin' about," Brenda sing-songed.

The woman dropped the smile she had put on around Brenda for the past couple of days. "Fine…" She sighed and added quickly, "But that's not the only reason I asked you to lunch, Chief. I really do believe that our divisions could work together much more efficiently if we both just-"

"And you're not getting my job," the blonde said with.

Raydor let out a little laugh, one of her sarcastic, incredulous ones. "I'm perfect for it! Certainly better than Commander Taylor who can barely conduct an investigation without venturing i-"

"Captain!" Brenda interrupted. "My job is not up for grabs…" She sighed and rubbed her forehead – this whole Chief business was turning into a nightmare and if that woman never would have made her apply for the job then all this wouldn't have happened in the first place.

"It's hard to believe that there's someone out there who has no career aspirations whatsoever," Raydor drawled and rolled her eyes at Brenda's incredulous look but didn't really mean it then put the pen down she had still been holding and slumped back in her chair. "FID has probably ruined me anyway."

The blonde lifted an eyebrow at the unusual and also rather unattractive display of self-pity. "So, lunch. Do you still think that that's a good idea?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

Oh, that woman was driving her insane today. "I see you've gone right back to being aggravatin' then, Sharon?"

Raydor narrowed her eyes at that, not yet ready to drop the whole thing. "And I really do hope that nothing will change now that we've-" She cleared her throat. "Because even though some people are where they wanna be in their careers, some people are not."

Brenda lifted an eyebrow, somehow satisfied with the fact that the woman hadn't been able to say what she had merely implied. "And where exactly would you like to be, Captain?"

Raydor smirked and leaned across her desk a bit. "City Hall," she husked which caused a rather unexpected hot flash to wash over the blonde yet she managed to smirk back, bemused by the woman's conspiring smile.

"My," she said, "You wanna be my boss?"

Sharon narrowed her eyes a bit and said, "I want to be everyone's boss, Chief Johnson."

* * *

"Bye, Captain Raydor," Brenda called over her shoulder as she exited the woman's office just to be met with somewhat disbelieving stares.

That's right, she thought smugly, we can play nice indeed. But what did they expect? That they throw down right there in her office? Pull each other's hair out?

Brenda smirked all the way down to her office; things with Raydor were still very much the same, at least they appeared that way to the rest of the world but Brenda knew better. She grabbed the still not empty bag of Peach Chews, having decided that she didn't need them anymore and stuff them into her candy drawer.

She caught a glimpse of the Ding Dong yet refused to think of the day she had gotten it.

The blonde couldn't think about that, especially now that her and Raydor had reached somewhat of a truce.

Somehow, Brenda thought and leaned back in her chair, somehow sleeping with the woman had given her a whole new perspective. Raydor was breakable, was defeatable, there was no need for competition, no need for Brenda to prove herself any longer.

She felt strangely comfortable in their relationship now, not like before where Raydor had confused the hell out of her and had sparked insecurities.

Of course, Brenda thought, that didn't mean her Captain wouldn't be as aggravating as ever or as annoying and nosy and controlling. She would go on and make Brenda's life difficult, she would question her, anger her and drive her up the walls.

Brenda opened her drawer and snatched the bag of Peach Chews. Her eyes lingered on the Ding Dong and to her own horror, she couldn't keep from reaching out and touching it carefully. The blonde slammed the drawer shut and started eating.

Raydor would just be as insufferable as always, it didn't matter that she had seen the woman writhe beneath her, that she had seen her in the throes of passion. Brenda had been the one to feel insecure about it, she knew that now but not Raydor, she felt entitled, like usual, and was completely full of herself, nothing new there.

Same old, same old…

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

**SPOILERS FOR EPISODE S06E12 - HIGH TIMES  
**

**A/N: **I'm not too happy with this chapter but somehow I've gotten a little distracted with the following one, so I hope this doesn't suck too bad.

ithinkyourewonderful: Haha, yeah, I would want Sharon Raydor to be my "boss" :P The Ding Dong is back to haunt her, a little, and the Pretzel M&M's make an appearance. Funny...here in Germany they're called 'Crisp'...cause there's no Pretzel in there. Anyhow, maybe this chapter will help you figure out where things are going :P Or maybe not, I kind of like that I apparently keep you guessing. Well, I hope you like the chapter, I'm a little nervous about it.

moxcar2010: They are so not over :) Don't worry, drama will ensue, "relationshipping" will commence and that is a promise.

tayryn: I know I keep repeating myself and I know I'm lame but I'm at chapter 19, I'm almost done and I've been trying hard to get the whole thing finished for the comm. I get distracted and I'm sorry. So, Ding Dongs sound pretty yummy...is it similar to anything? I'm curious, I really should try to get them from somewhere...There's a WalMart a couple towns from here, maybe they have them. I'm kind of embarrassed to never have eaten one :P Thanks for the description though, that helps :)

CaityBeloved: Hehe, Let's Get Physical, it's ridiculous in a way, right? I'm not sure if their truce will last, we'll have to wait for the new episodes I guess :P As for the 'something else' part, I suppose this chapter answers that question somewhat.

emmalil03: Wow, what a compliment! There are awesome stories out there, I just wish there were more writers - us few can't do all the work, damnit! This is a great fandom though, isn't it? And I really don't mind sucking if it means more people convert to B/S. Anyway, I hope this chapter sucks as well :)

ForeverCher: You don't like writing on your iPhone? damnyouautocorrect(dot)com - I'm just sayin'... :P You read the whole thing twice? Gee, I haven't read the whole thing twice. I'm in the process though so I can post on LJ. I would really recommend reading it thrice though...only good things can come of that, uh huh.

KDTB: Honey, I'm glad your fascination is reinvigorated :P I love how B/S interact and I'm always worried of ruining their "relationship", of crossing the line too often or something, it's a difficult dynamic. And you got that right, hehe, Sharon is Brenda's human candy bar, just ten times more packed with sugar. As for hanky panky in Sharon's office, well, here's an idea...

toomanycats: Brenda having any kind of self-restraint? Naaah. As for the lunch date, um, I have been tentatively planning one a couple chapters down the road but I'm not sure yet how to do it. If it happens, it will be after the whole Christmas episodes - hope that's not too long a wait, hmm. LOL, the singing cracked me up too, hehe - it's probably kinda ridiculous that I laugh at my own jokes but, yeah, it just had to be in the fic. And yes, Peach Chews are a real thing - they're hand-out candy. I used to get something like that from my doctor as a kid and I still kind of like those nasty things :P

healover: Ha! Ein Ösi, da freu ich mich aber :) I hope you're still reading and that you like the new chapter as well. It's not as porn-movie-scripty as the others but I do hope it delivers as well :) Anyway, I'm glad I have a new reader, yay and thanks for commenting!

myIllusion: You're the second one to ask about the lunch and now I feel compelled to go through with my idea instead of waiting around for the new episodes and, hopefully, the lunch. Ugh. I feel sorry for Fritz too, even though he doesn't know he's being cheated on. As for the love interest for Sharon, I've thought about that, and it does kind of fit in with something I've already written for a future chapter. Perhaps I will weave it in...and while I've been writing this an idea formed in my head. Gee, this damn story will never freakin' end, argh!

Well. Again, thank you guys for all the wonderful feedback, the writers among you will know how much it actually helps. You rock, big time!

**Chapter Twenty-Five:**

Bad Connection

"…and with our hiring freeze, I need every work-hour to be well spent, even if it means I have to move people to do it, like, say…you."

"M-me? Move me? Move me where?"

"I like to have people in their proper places," Chief Delk said. "You for example would make an excellent Assistant Chief of Operations."

In that moment, Brenda felt her carefully crafted, very comfortable world crumble. "That's Will Pope's job."

"And I would like somebody with a more hands-on experience in his position."

_Oh…hell. _

And Fritz? He greeted her with a glass of champagne when she got home that night.

The simple fact was that Brenda did not want that job, she had told Raydor so and she was planning on telling Delk as well. She had expected Fritz to figure that one out on his own, she had dropped enough hints, hadn't she? But Fritz kept dropping hints also as it was…

She didn't want to disappoint him, she knew he wanted her to take that job, she knew he wanted her out of harm's way and she knew he just hated Will Pope and the fact that they worked together on a daily basis.

He also hated Raydor still.

The worst part, as far as Brenda was concerned, was that she knew that Fritz knew that she did not want that job but that he wouldn't back down because he was placing his wants, not even needs, above hers. If it had been his job, Brenda wouldn't have minded as much but this was her life and she just despised the fact that her husband was suddenly turning on her.

As she had once told Raydor, as a woman, Brenda felt that she had earned the right to options and one of those should be to say 'no'. She would say no to Delk eventually but not to Fritz, at least not yet.

"Why do you want me in Will's job so bad anyhow?" Brenda asked over dinner, having decided to give him a chance.

"Because I don't want you chasing robbers and other armed criminals anymore. If you were Assistant Chief of Operations I wouldn't have to spend so much time worrying anymore."

The blonde had to admit that Fritz had a point…his point of view. Her job was dangerous and he had known that going in but her job was considerably less dangerous than the rest of the squad's.

"Like I know I will all day tomorrow while you're staking out some pot shop, waiting for a bunch of murderers to strike again."

Brenda truly started to resent the fact that Fritz was so close to the source now with being the official FBI liaison to the LAPD.

"Why can't you let the undercover detectives handle this?"

"Because I want these guys alive and SIA shoots first and asks questions never. And I'll be sitting in a surveillance van the whole time anyhow."

"And this van is going to be parked three blocks away."

Brenda nodded; _of course._

"And the surveillance van is going to be parked three blocks away."

"Oh, for heaven's sakes, the surveillance van will be parked three blocks away." Two, but Fritz had to have calculated that in, knowing her as well as he did.

The next day, in the van, Brenda squinted at the screens set up in the back. Brenda sighed. "Can we move the van a little closer?"

Tao poked his head in. "Not without going inside."

Brenda knew she was doing it on purpose. So what? It was her job, she was responsible for this whole operation; she was here to do her duty and not abide to the law Fritz had attempted to lay down. Perhaps she was overdoing it but, and Brenda was not very proud of that fact, she felt not only hurt but also angered by her husband's demands.

She knew he worried about her safety but she also knew he worried about Will…and Raydor. It was her right though to choose and so she had chosen to park that surveillance van right across the street and not three blocks away.

* * *

Brenda sat on the lid of the toilet and searched through her purse.

She knew she had seen it just that morning…

It had to be there!

The blonde was about to give up when her fingers closed around the very last Peach Chew. Brenda stared at it for longer than one should stare at such things then sighed and leaned her head against the wall beside her.

She ate the Peach Chew with a stillness that one wouldn't expect when confronted with sugar but Brenda felt calmed by the flavor, by the scent and by the feel of the wrapper.

Fritz was out there and she would have to tell him that she wouldn't be taking that job, or rather, she would have to tell him to quit forcing his opinion on her. It was difficult enough as it was with Delk calling and 'visiting' Major Crimes, a division that was, in his opinion, completely superfluous.

Perhaps she shouldn't be this dramatic about it.

This whole damn Chief business was turning her whole life upside down and Fritz should be there to support her, he should be understanding and compassionate and talk her through all this, that's what husbands did, wasn't it?

And to top it all off, her mother had called about Christmas. She had left a message on the answer machine that they were planning on visiting.

The blonde sighed loudly and stood. She fussed with her hair and her clothes out of sheer irritation at having to go out there and tell her own husband what he already knew.

* * *

"Well," Fritz said from the kitchen. "You don't look too happy about all this."

Brenda rolled her eyes. "That's what Taylor said."

"What?" Fritz emerged from the kitchen.

"I said, why should I be happy about all this?"

"Because Delk is over the moon," he stated and sat down on the couch beside her.

Brenda didn't look up from her file, she already knew what he was thinking, she already knew where this conversation was going and she had decided, despite her earlier resolution in the bathroom, to wait for Fritz to bring it up because, after all, it was him who wanted something from her.

"You know what? I'm just gonna say it," Fritz dumped the file he had been reading on the stack of files on the table. "I don't like Will Pope. He still has feelings for you."

"That's ridiculous!" Good old-fashioned jealousy it was then. "That is absolutely not true. Fritzy, please don't-"

"You're the only one who doesn't see it and not only do I not like that you work with him, I don't like it that you spend more time worrying about what Pope wants than what I want!"

She wondered, briefly, if she had given him a reason for his jealousy, if he had noticed something off. "Well, that is absolutely not true."

"No?"

"No! When it comes to work I spend most of my time wonderin' about what I want and you and Pope just don't enter into it. And since you just told me something you don't like, here's something I just had, and that is when my husband tells me who I should be workin' with."

"That is not what I'm doing…"

"That's exactly what you're doing and! And you're tellin' me what job I should want when I'm happy where I am!" There, the simple truth she had been able to tell Raydor right to her face. "And the best way for me to hold onto my job is for Will to hold onto his."

"Well, that's not gonna happen."

We'll see about that, Brenda thought, because she had a plan. It may be somewhat morally reprehensible to use Will's feelings for her to get him to fight for his job but what else could she do?

And it wasn't like she hadn't been operating on the wrong side of the moral line lately anyway.

With the whole Raydor thing.

Perhaps she had been a little off lately and perhaps that was why Fritz's jealousy of Will was flaring up again.

Just her luck that it wasn't Pope she had slept with.

* * *

It started the next day with an empty bag of Pretzel M&M's and a dollar bill.

It was the end of the day, late in the evening and Brenda was practically alone at the office.

They had closed the case, she had talked to Will and had successfully avoided Delk when she decided to raid her candy drawer before going home. She needed M&M's to keep her going but she had finished that bag earlier.

Standing before the vending machine, she realized that it didn't have the Pretzel ones, just the peanut kind which, she figured, were better than none at all. Then the machine wouldn't take the bill, it came back out twice which was when Brenda prematurely lost her patience.

Slapping the machine, Brenda stomped to her office and fished the empty Pretzel M&M's bag out of the trash. She looked inside, tried to find a big enough crumb in there to justify licking it off her fingertip but found none.

Sighing, Brenda slumped back in her chair, the empty bag in one hand, a piece of chocolate in the other.

She ate the chocolate even though it wasn't what she wanted.

Her eyes lingered over the candy drawer as she nibbled on the chocolate to prolong it. Four Ding Dongs, she thought, but she always knew which of them was _the one_. Brenda hadn't dared eat it and she probably wouldn't anytime soon.

For some reason Brenda felt like stuffing the dollar bill into the empty M&M's bag which she then put into the candy drawer.

She looked at it for a bit, wondering about her own reasons but didn't dare question them.

That's how it started.

She started lying about things, in fact, she lied that very same day about the Chinese take-out she had gotten on her way home. She thought about that extra dollar in her purse before she fell asleep that night, thought about it when she woke up and thought about it when she put it in the M&M's bag.

She didn't buy the donut that she really wanted, she lied about what the shoes cost she bought two days later and just added another ten dollars to their price, she didn't buy the lipstick, walked right past the ice cream vendor, didn't even look at the pastry, avoided her favorite bakery and ate that candy she loved from China Town only once.

It was a mere week later that she felt the repercussions.

Sugar wasn't something Brenda could just quit, chocolate wasn't something she could just eradicate from her life, no because for Brenda chocolate was a permanent thing.

Looking into her almost empty candy drawer the blonde began to realize her mistake but refused to raid the M&M's bag and go to the vending machine.

There were still some loose gummi bears and a couple ice cups that she was kind of ambivalent about at that moment.

Of course, there was still _the_ Ding Dong.

Brenda took it out carefully, delicately turned it over and over all the while bestowing a more than smoldering look upon it. For a moment Brenda allowed herself to remember, she hadn't yet dared to, and let her mind wander straight to where it wanted to.

Captain Sharon Raydor. _Mmmh…_

A small, lazy smile appeared on Brenda's face as she replayed exactly what Sharon had done to her during the third round.

They had agreed upon once – just that one time and never again after that but somehow, deep down inside, Brenda had hoped that maybe Sharon would call…

* * *

Another hot flash made her insides feel as if they were slowly turning to ashes and her chest, her neck, her back, everything dampened in response to it.

It was about 2.07 a.m., at least it had been the last time Brenda had looked over at the alarm clock.

_2.09 – oh, for heaven's sakes!_

She couldn't help it really, time was moving slowly and Brenda wasn't really sure whether to be grateful or annoyed. She had had no chocolate whatsoever for the past two days. None, zero, zilch, nada and it was starting to take its toll. The hot flashes weren't even the worst, Brenda thought, biting her lip, the worst was the irritability.

Not being a very patient person to begin with, Brenda found herself with a very short fuse and sometimes an even shorter attention span lately. Sometimes, at the very most inopportune moments she imagined chocolate melting against her lips, melting on her tongue and she herself melting at the very taste of it.

_God!_

The sweetness, the smooth texture, the smell of it, the warmth it elicited in her belly, the euphoria it created, how it made her heart beat faster, how it soothed and calmed her down when she had had a stressful day, giving her a release for all this tension.

_Oooh! _

While she was lying there, sweating, fidgeting, gnawing on her lower lip, clenching the sheets, Brenda began to realize that this whole abstinence thingy just wasn't her thing.

She also didn't have any real reason for quitting.

No one had asked her to.

Her resolve crumbled like a Butterfinger Crisp.

Brenda slid out of bed as quietly as she possibly could and tiptoed into the kitchen after making sure that Fritzy was and stayed asleep. She opened a drawer where she thought she had hidden a Ho Ho or two but then remembered that she had eaten those a week ago for breakfast. Ice cream it was then.

She opened the freezer – there was only strawberry left! Why hadn't she thought of telling Fritz to buy more?

Sighing, Brenda ripped the carton open and stared inside.

What was left was, simply put, pathetic and only one person in this household would consider that a serving. If it had been Brenda, she would've finished the ice cream off.

She grabbed a spoon anyway, put syrup directly into the bucket, added some peanut butter for good measure…then she saw the Nutella and decided that it couldn't really hurt either. She mixed the ingredients to a blob of goo and wolfed it down.

Brenda's lower lip trembled as she stared into the empty carton, her eyes watered without her consent and she was very nearly about to end up crying when her mood improved dramatically upon remembering the Ding Dong she had in her purse.

It was _the_ Ding Dong and she only had it in her purse because Detective Gabriel had knocked and in her panic she had thrown it in there.

The Raydor Ding Dong…but for the moment she couldn't care less.

Abandoning the ice cream carton, Brenda went in search of her purse. She had put it on a chair at the kitchen table when she had gotten home and had accepted the glass of wine Fritz had held out to her.

She grabbed her purse, slumped down onto the couch and dug into it. She shoved its complete content to one side then to the other until she emerged victoriously with the Ding Dong in her hand. She caressed the silver wrapping with the tips of her fingers as she sucked her lower lip into her mouth in anticipation.

Slowly Brenda drew her legs up onto the couch and leaned back, bringing the Ding Dong to her nose, inhaling. As delicately as she could possibly be, she drew the wrapping aside until she held the most perfect, the epitome of all chocolate cakey treats with the tips of her fingers. The chocolate had started melting by the time Brenda brought the cake to her lips.

She let them touch it for a moment, dared to lick with the tip of her tongue and then she bit into it.

The flavor of dark chocolate immediately flooded her senses, the sweet cake, the even sweeter filling, its texture heavenly velvety on her tongue. Brenda's eyes closed and she moaned in absolute pleasure.

_Oh, yes…_

It was exactly…_exactly_ what she had needed.

Brenda gathered some of the filling on her fingertip and licked it off, another moan bubbling up, a tingly feeling spreading through her stomach, robbing her of all breath.

That little cake, as simple as it was, was exactly what she had needed and how silly had it been of her to deny herself such pleasure? Sometimes Brenda just needed certain things and why should she suffer when she could easily have them?

A lazy smile overtook Brenda's features as she brought the cake to her lips again.

"Mmm…" _Perfect._

She reached out for her purse before she could think much of it and pulled out her cell phone then she simply wrote "Call me." and hit the send-button.

As soon as she had done so, Brenda went very still and stared at the phone.

And then she simply bit into the cake again.

Maybe she had to be weaned off? Maybe she needed this for just another night? Maybe she needed to tease herself with the mere idea of it again. Wallow in it, abandon herself to it for just a little while longer.

She imagined that this was how a budding addict felt. On the verge of falling off the wagon, knowing it too but too tempted to hold onto something.

Brenda put the last bit of the Ding Dong into her mouth, licked her fingers clean and chewed very, very slowly to savor it.

And jumped as her cell phone vibrated.

Brenda picked it up, fumbled and took the call. "…hello?"

"Hello." The voice on the other end replied.

The blonde blinked rapidly, swallowed, bit her lip, incapable of uttering even a single word.

"First you tell me to call and then you won't talk to me…"

A tiny sound escaped Brenda's lips as she realized that she had to say something and soon. "I didn't mean now!" She hissed. "I thought you were asleep!"

"I was," Sharon replied evenly, her voice rough from sleep. "Until my phone rang."

Brenda all but growled into the phone – _that woman!_

"Okay," Sharon said, "I'm going to hang up now."

"No, no, no, no, no! Don't hang up!" Brenda scrambled to her feet. "Don't you hang up now." She looked around.

The bathroom?

The guestroom?

She picked up her purse and went out the front door in her pajamas and all. Looking around for prying eyes, Brenda hurried to her car, unlocked it, hopped inside and closed the door.

"You still there?"

"Yes," the brunette replied tiredly, and also a little unnerved. "Why the urgent need for a phone call? I gather it has absolutely nothing to do with work."

Brenda curled up in her seat and stared out of the passenger side window. "I just…" Heart pounding within her chest, the blonde decided to go with the truth. "I…I guess I've been thinking about you lately." All that candy she day-dreamed about, all the chocolate she had cravings for, all the sugar she was lusting after. "I've been thinking about you a lot."

Sharon took a rather large breath on the other end and Brenda felt a slight trace of panic at the possibility that the brunette might tell her that she was being silly, that they had an agreement but the fact that Sharon had called her immediately after receiving her message reassured her somewhat.

"You have been on my mind as well."

The needs for the things Sharon had given her were still there, they had always been there and Brenda hadn't known before that there was a person who could take care of them all.

"I knew it…" The blonde let out a tiny laugh. "Your silly plan didn't work out at all, now did it, Miss Congeniality?"

Sharon scoffed. "No one forced you to participate."

"You wore me down," Brenda murmured then added as an afterthought, "you should've just done as I said and we wouldn't be in this mess now."

"And miss out on a night of amazing-"

"Don't talk about that!" Brenda interrupted. "Don't-"

"Amazing sex," Sharon said loudly, intent on saying her piece. "If you don't want to talk about that then why did you ask me to call? To have a…girly chat in the middle of the night? Talk about your new shoes?"

Brenda scoffed a little embarrassed. She nibbled on the tip of her finger that still tasted faintly of chocolate. "You're awful," she said suddenly, surprising herself. "I don't even know why I-" The blonde clamped her mouth shut and released a shuddering breath through her nose.

"Why you what?" Sharon asked on the other end of the line, her voice still gravelly from sleep, the effect only enhanced by her impatience.

And there Brenda was again, about to choose between right and wrong – hanging up and never talking to the woman again or telling her exactly what she had been thinking about. Somehow Sharon always made her choose wrong, perhaps it had something to do with the woman's general ability to inspire the worst in people, or rather the worst in Brenda.

"You're so awful, I don't even know why I want you so much." Brenda closed her eyes tightly, hugged her stomach with one arm and curled up on the seat while she listened to Sharon's breathing on the other end.

"And you're the most impossible person I know and there's no logical reason why I would want you as much as I do."

They, simultaneously, released a shuddering breath and then Brenda just listened to the slightly louder puffs of air transmitted only through sound. Sharon was probably doing the same, she thought and wondered if Sharon was also thinking the same thing she was.

Brenda's mind, as unorganized and sometimes unwilling to bend to her will as it was, currently leafed through the whole catalogue of images she had not dared look at up until that very moment. She remembered clearly how Sharon's hands had felt on her skin, how the woman had spread them out to greedily grasp as much of her flesh as she could.

How her touch, needy, demanding and sure, had enabled Brenda to let go. Her grasp on control had slipped and all pressure had evaporated, all responsibilities had faded away.

"So…" Sharon murmured eventually. "Why did you want me to call?"

Brenda released another shuddering breath. "I'm not sure…"

"…where are you?"

"In my car…in my driveway."

She heard Sharon chuckle quietly on the other end. "Are you alone?"

Brenda grinned. "I am." She waited for the question one would expect in a situation like this but Sharon didn't ask about her state of dress.

Instead Brenda heard her breath hitch and the woman took another moment before she spoke. "I want to sleep with you again," she stated evenly as if reading the most boring headline of a newspaper and then it just rushed out of her, "And it's driving me crazy because I think about it constantly."

"All the time?" Brenda asked in a whisper.

"I just said that, didn't I?"

The blonde rolled her eyes and drew her legs up onto the seat, letting the silence engulf them for a bit. Nibbling contemplatively on a fingertip, eyes tracing the edges of the shadows in the car, Brenda felt a sense of dichotomy but then, casting aside all second thoughts, she closed her eyes and said barely above a whisper, "The way you touched me…I can't stop thinkin' about it…" Brenda let out an embarrassed chuckle as she realized that she had indeed just said that.

Sharon however, said nothing, she just breathed into the phone.

"You made me feel things…"

"Things you've never felt before?" The brunette finished mockingly.

Brenda wouldn't let herself be discouraged. "Things I haven't felt in a long time and I didn't think I still could." She closed her eyes and sighed a little.

"Can you come over?"

Brenda bit down on her lip, on her initial answer and took a mighty breath. "We shouldn't take a risk like that, we should wait and meet in a hotel again…but not the same one. And we'll have to wait till Fritz is out of town and I better not call you too often-"

"Brenda, I know how to hide things."

There was a pause then Brenda uncurled a bit in her seat; she had the opportunity to end it there but wasn't ready yet. She needed to hear her voice for a bit longer, that was all. "What hotel would you like to go?"

"Does it matter?"

Brenda bit her lip. "Right now it does…"

Sharon sighed on the other end of the line and the blonde knew that she was merely indulging her by answering. "The Renaissance Hotel."

"Why there?"

"It's a nice hotel, that's all."

"I would want to stay at the Redbury once."

"Then let's go there next time."

The blonde closed her eyes again and thought of how good Sharon would look in one of the Redbury's beds. A little noise escaped her lips, just a tiny one, barely audible but she knew Sharon had caught it.

"I want you to come over."

Brenda squeezed her thighs together. "I can't."

"I want to touch you." Sharon had known all along, hadn't she? "I want to kiss you again, taste you and smell you."

"I want that too," Brenda whispered.

Sharon whimpered suddenly, the feeble, vulnerable sound in stark contrast to her husky voice. "I want to be inside you again."

The blonde swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut tightly; she pictured it in her mind's eye, relived that glorious moment when Sharon had entered her fully for the first time. "I want you inside me, I've been thinkin' about it all the time even when I tried not to."

"Brenda…"

The blonde released a breath and clutched at her pajama bottoms.

"I want you, now."

Brenda sucked her lower lip in and bit down on it, letting the words caress her, sizzle along her spine. Sharon almost had her now, soon she would start the car and drive the ten minutes and then make the woman take her, really take her, so that this time she wouldn't crave it again.

Sharon breathed noisily into the phone for a moment then there was a brief silence. "I don't know what it is about you but I have never wanted anyone the way I want you."

The blonde's lips formed a silent 'oh'.

"Brenda…"

And then she heard Sharon's breath hitch.

"Wh-what are you doin'?" Brenda asked slowly, quietly.

"…what do you think?" Sharon's voice wavered.

The blonde took a startled breath, her jaw dropped as she heard that gentle sigh and that small, strangled whimper that she was all too familiar with. Brenda's eyes darted to the house and then she turned in her seat, stared out of the driver's side window for a moment, wide-eyed, a flush spreading over her features and then she clawed at the drawstrings of her pants.

"Wait…wait," she whispered breathily as she shoved her hand into her underwear. Brenda gasped as her fingertips slid through wetness and pressed her thighs together, startled by the intensity of what she was feeling.

"I can't stop thinking about that night," the woman said with an almost hoarse voice. "We have to meet soon or I will lose my mind."

Brenda bit her lip and willed her eyes open which took a much greater effort than anticipated since the mere voice of the woman sent a shiver down her spine. For a moment Brenda glanced back at her house then squeezed her eyes tightly shut again. "I've already lost it…" She didn't say anything else, she just listened to Sharon while the other woman was apparently listening to her.

She didn't need words, all she needed was her memories, to recall the night of passion they had shared.

Brenda glanced about the neighborhood through half-lidded eyes that she squeezed right shut after the brief sweep. She pushed a finger inside, slowly, and she imagined it was Sharon between her legs.

The blonde flushed with embarrassment and bit down on her lip, chasing those images away, images of that woman.

"Oh, god," Sharon whimpered. "What did you just do?"

Brenda tried to be still, to not move but she couldn't. She also realized in that same instance that she had indeed made a noise that could have very well been a moan. "I…" She couldn't say it.

"Tell me," the brunette insisted huskily.

"I—I thought…about you, inside me," she stumbled over the words.

"And you did it, didn't you? You-"

"Yes," Brenda said quickly, not even wanting Sharon to say it out loud. "Yes…"

"Oh, god," she whimpered again and the blonde found her hips move involuntarily at that. The woman's velvety voice had always fascinated her but the things it could do to Brenda in situations like these were downright criminal.

The blonde turned her head a little more to the left and bit her bottom lip, she breathed out shakily, her shame forgotten, at least for the moment, as she pushed her finger inside just that little bit deeper. She whimpered and opened her eyes. "Talk to me," she said and glanced back at the house in fear of being discovered.

"I've been thinking about-" Sharon's breath hitched and Brenda tried to imagine what she could possibly be doing that would elicit such a response. "I've been thinking about our night together."

"…me too." The blonde melted into her seat, the world fading away.

"The way you felt…h-how hot and mmh, soft you were. Your scent lingered in that room for so long and I, and I wanted to crawl back into that bed but I didn't," Sharon took a strangled breath that did nothing to calm her down. "And the way you tasted, oh, god…oral sex," she said, "I like it."

"You do?" Brenda wondered, her voice high and nasal as she clawed at the seat with one hand and caressed her clit with the other.

"I could do that to you for hours," Sharon stated gravelly.

"Hours?" The blonde asked, slightly alarmed yet aroused at the prospect as well.

"Hours. Mmmh…"

Brenda's eyes opened then rolled back as she imagined Sharon humming like that between her legs. Suddenly the blonde felt very close to coming, it just came over her like it had done many times when with her Captain. She bit down on her lip and tried to breathe evenly, tried to stop herself from moving her hand any faster, from moving her hips just so.

"Not yet!" Sharon said sternly on the other end.

Not yet? Brenda wanted to wail but instead said, "Then stop talkin', for heaven's sakes!"

"I'm just doing what you ordered me to do, Chief Johnson," she responded with a surprisingly clipped tone of voice.

Brenda licked her lip and stilled her hand for a moment, gathering the last bit of sanity she had left. "…ooooh, woman!" She said, not meaning it because it had either been that or 'I need you' and the latter would have been decidedly much worse.

Sharon chuckled huskily, her breathing labored.

"Be quiet!" Brenda tried, losing the battle as she pushed her finger inside again even though she had tried not to and pressed her palm against her clit.

"Or what?" The brunette asked shakily yet Brenda couldn't help but admire her self-control. "Are you going to come over here and make me, say, kneel before you and give it to you right there in my doorway, Chief?"

"Just…just stop talkin'!"

"What are you doing?"

"Touchin' myself," Brenda answered without thinking.

"That much I gathered," Sharon managed to say evenly through her heavy breathing. "I'm doing it too—"

"I know."

"—and I keep thinking that you could've been right here, right now if you had just done as I said. We could be having sex right now, in my bedroom and I could be going down on you and make you come like you've never come—"

"You're so full of yourself," Brenda interrupted and glanced out of the window again, just to make sure, stilling her hand. She closed her eyes, the brunette's harsh breathing filtering through her fear. She felt her body go slack with adrenalin.

"Sharon," the name fell from her lips just like that. "I want you so bad, I don't know what to do with myself!" She cracked, the pressure fell away, her Captain would take care of things, wouldn't she?

"Oh, god, Brenda, I'm going to come…"

The blonde squeezed her legs together around her hand and wailed in pleasure. "Me too."

"Not yet!" Sharon said with a strained voice.

Brenda pushed her finger inside, her warm and wet palm sliding against her clit as she reached up and took a hold of the phone. "Oh, screw that!"

Sharon took a deep breath then there was silence. Brenda squeezed her eyes shut and moved her hips yet holding back with all her might then she heard Sharon gasp like she had heard her gasp before and felt a smug grin flit over her features. "I win," the blonde said, the words mostly drowned out by the brunette's strangled moan.

"Oh, yes, Brenda…"

The blonde's eyes rolled back and she almost glided off the seat as her walls locked around her finger. She pictured Sharon lying in bed, her hand lodged between her legs, her toes curled and her back arched in pleasure.

Brenda moaned without meaning to, she had wanted to be quiet but found that she couldn't stop the small, little whimpers and the woman's name tumbling from her lips.

She wasn't quite sure how long it took the pleasure to ebb somewhat and her breathing to slow a bit but it was longer than Brenda would have anticipated. She realized she was clutching the phone in her hand and lifted it slowly back to her ear.

"Brenda?" Sharon asked at once.

The blonde wetted her lips that had gone dry. "Yes…"

"Well." The brunette said slowly, the word sounding too carefully pronounced. "That was…um…"

"Interestin'," Brenda supplied.

"I was going to say 'something else' but I suppose 'interesting' fits just as well."

They went quiet and the blonde hoped that the silence wouldn't turn embarrassing, that Sharon would say something before that could happen because she had nothing to say, she merely blushed as she pulled her hand out from between her legs.

"Call me when your husband will be gone again and we can talk about where we'll meet next, yes?"

Brenda nodded to herself. "I'll think about it."

"No," Sharon responded with that little edge in her voice. "You're not going to think about it. You are going to call me when your husband is out of town."

The blonde swallowed and glanced at the house. "I will, I will, okay?"

"Good."

"Well…" Brenda flushed as she wiped her hand on her pajama bottoms. "Um, thank you for, I mean, um…"

"The word you're looking for is 'goodbye'."

"Right," the blonde bit her lip and rolled her eyes at herself. "Night, Cap'n…I mean, Sharon."

She heard Raydor chuckle on the other end of the line. "Goodnight, Brenda," she said.

And hung up.

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: It's terrible...the chapters get longer and longer, which is bad! I know some of you are like, yeah, sure but it's bad. They take longer to write, you could be having more if I just managed to write shorter chapters...ugh.

ithinkyourewonderful: Well, I can certainly live with spectacular. Wow, like a crack habit? Need an intervention? :) Admittedly, I was rather nervous about this chapter - I was afraid of adding too much emotion, I also was unsure of what people would think of the whole phone sex thing but it seems, as you said, the gamble paid off, phew! Now, this chapter here, I'm nervous yet again - I think this is the most unsure I've ever been about a chapter, ugh. Anyway, let me know what you think...even if you think I went totally nuts with this one.

emmalil03: It's criminal how often you've read this fic? Really? 'Cause I got a pair of handcuffs over here...okay, that was creepy and weird, sorry :P I hope this'll fix you up though. As for getting paid for writing fanfic, um, I would totally sign up for that.

moxcar2010: Did you get the chocolate? Heh. And yeah, poor Brenda, it's difficult enough to battle one addiction but two? Hell, no way she was gonna make that, right? Ugh...I want chocolate too right now :(

tayryn: Trying to kill you with chapters like this one? Of course I am, chérie, what else would I be wanting to do with all that dirty hanky panky? Nah...kidding but keep fanning yourself, you might need it :P Boy, Sharon's voice and that clipped tone, sheesh, gets me every time, hehe. I hope you'll like this chapter, I'm so nervous about it, grr. But, of course I'm going to post it on LJ right away this time, not gonna make that mistake again :P

Kiva4ever: Hey, long time no see...so to speak. Thanks for the review. Are you planning on writing some B/S again? Pretty please?

KDTB: Hehehe, yeah, how can Sharon not be good at anything that has to do with talking? And sex. I can't imagine her not being good at it. I'm glad they were in character...kinda. It's hard to tell, I guess. Anyway, glad you found me on LJ :)

Zeeka: I'm so glad this chapter was received well. I'm hardly ever nervous about my writing, not even when it's risky, but somehow I'm afraid of crossing the line with the sex scenes. But anyway, glad you liked it :)

healover: Tja, und nun musst wie alle anderen leiden während du auf's nächste Kapitel wartest. Manchmal hab ich schon Schuldgefühle weil's so lange dauert, aber naja, das hab ich mir ja alles selbst eingebrockt. Hoffe, dir gefällt dieses Chapter...*nervös*

ForeverCher: Believe it or not, I had difficulty following that first part too, yep :P I wrote it late at night. Hehehe, oral sex, yeah, well, not a word I would use, personally but I figured Sharon might. Sometimes that clinical speech of hers can be pretty sexy, right? As for the 'My Captain Raydor' scene, I'm working on that already, there will be, maybe, two more chapters in between. I'm totally overdoing it...

toomanycats: Haha, things did escalate rather quickly, huh? But that's Brenda, can't wait for anything. And, yeah, sex between them is sort of a competition but it has to be that because if it weren't, it would have to be something else and whatever that might be (mystery, mystery...) they're not ready for it yet. That was lame, wasn't it? I still can't make 'mysterious' mysterious...I don't know how that works. And now I'm babbling needlessly...

capa-06: Ach, noch 'ne deutsche Kartoffel :) Find ich echt klasse, dass dieses Fandom so viele Deutsche hat. So. Du hast absolut recht, auf Englisch ist's besser. Das Synchronisationsgeschäft ist ja sowieso hinüber und manchmal übersetzen die einfach irgendeinen Mist. Aber egal. Du hast das ganze Ding in einer Nacht gelesen? Ach du Schande :P Wow. Das ist ja eigentlich ein riesen Kompliment für mich...also danke :) Hoffe, dir wird dieses Chapter auch gefallen, bin schon gespannt.

I-Love-Capn-Raydor: There you are! Ha :) Have you recovered yet? Nice hearing from you though. Are you writing anything new..?

Once again, thank you everyone for leaving such wonderful feedback, I truly appreciate it! You guys are the greatest, yep :)

**Chapter Twenty-Six:**

Chocolate Is A Permanent Thing

"Hi, Fritzy!" Brenda wasn't quite sure why she was doing it, why she had decided to have a drink with the boys, but somewhere in the far, far back of her mind was this idea lurking, a little nagging voice that told her to go just so she had the off-chance of doing something quite despicable.

"Hey, honey. No, no, no, put that…right. We're all over the place here."

"I can hear…what's goin' on over there? I thought you were already home."

"Well," Fritz said evenly, the background noise slowly fading. "No one can know about this…and no one will, if you know what I mean."

Brenda rolled her eyes and nodded. "I think I can guess," she responded.

"We had a guy who dealt our information to god knows who-"

"I didn't know there were still moles in the FBI."

"We're not calling him a mole, Brenda."

"Of course," the blonde said with a grin.

"And this is serious! He's left us with a mess, over thirty witnesses to relocate, court cases to review…I may not make it home before ten tonight."

"I'm sorry, Fritzy," Brenda really was then she remembered why she had called. "Oh, uh, Lieutenant Flynn got his sling off today, he's gonna come back to work fulltime soon and he invited us all for drinks."

"Well, that's nice of him."

"Just that we all have to pay for the drinks ourselves," the blonde added. "But I've decided to go, so don't worry about workin' late, okay?"

"Yeah, you have fun while I'm slaving away at the office," the grin in his voice was audible. "Listen, I gotta go. I'll see you when I see you, Brenda."

"Okay…"

"Love you."

"Me too, bye!" She hung up and stared at her cell phone for a moment. She would go out with the boys and no matter how long she stared at her phone it wouldn't make her dial that number.

She would have at least one drink and then…we'll see, she thought.

* * *

"…and then he made a run for it! I mean, can you believe that guy?"

They had agreed upon not calling each other, hadn't they? It would be too suspicious if Raydor's number popped up on her bill too often and at the most odd hours of the day. It was that fact that had kept Brenda from calling the woman.

"He ran straight into Provenza and knocked him over-"

"He did not!"

She felt awful, honestly, because there should be more than numbers on a bill that kept her from calling.

"I didn't even fall!"

"Then what were you doing getting up when I got there?"

Brenda took a sip of her Merlot and tried to listen to Flynn's story but couldn't bring herself to pay attention.

Well, she thought stony-faced, there was that payphone in the ladies' room.

And if such a thing as hell existed, Brenda was absolutely certain that she would go there.

The blonde swallowed convulsively as she broke out into a cold sweat; she couldn't do it, it was wrong, she had done enough damage already with that silly phone sex conversation two days ago. Suddenly, she felt immensely frustrated with herself – why couldn't she just quit this already?

Enough was enough!

Brenda took a deep breath and drank her Merlot. She couldn't go on like this, she couldn't do that to her marriage and she couldn't string Raydor along like this either. The woman wanted her, she had said so, and for the first time Brenda actually wondered in what capacity.

Back when she had had that thing…that affair with Will, she had had all those crazy ideas about a life with him, about being with him and getting married. He on the other hand hadn't really thought about it all that much. Brenda couldn't really hold it against him, she hadn't said anything, hadn't asked for anything, hadn't let him know that he should be thinking about their future.

She was doing the same thing, she hadn't even given a thought to what Raydor might hope to get out of this.

So far, Brenda had to concede, the woman hadn't given any indication that she thought, or had hopes for more than sex. Perhaps, the blonde thought, perhaps she did want an affair, perhaps she wanted somebody to explore her…sexuality with?

Brenda nibbled on her wine contemplatively; perhaps Raydor quite liked the fact that nothing could ever come of this.

The blonde picked up her purse and felt around its very bottom; if she found that loose change she had spotted in there a couple days ago, she would go to the ladies' room and-

There it was.

Brenda hadn't expected it to be there but she had had to know for sure because it would have haunted her for the rest of the night. There was the change. What now?

She emptied her Merlot and looked at the faces around her. Flynn was still talking, everyone was laughing – Brenda plastered a smile onto her face – and she was the only one who had finished their drink already.

She felt dizzy suddenly upon realizing that she had downed that wine far too quickly.

If the phone worked, she would call because when did payphones ever work these days anyway?

"S'cuse me, gentlemen, be right back!" Brenda weaved her way to the back of the bar and went into the bathroom; it was empty, she made sure of that because if it hadn't been, she would have left right away.

The payphone looked to be in working order. Brenda bit her lip and got her cell phone out of her purse. She searched for Raydor's cell number and halted, clutching the coins in her hand. She threw them in, one after the other. The phone worked. She dialed.

But if Raydor didn't pick up then that was it.

Brenda's heart pounded so hard, she could barely hear the ringing on the other end. Her lips were turning numb already and her hands were shaking. She didn't pick up. She didn't. Don't pick up. Don't pick up. Please, don't.

"Yes? Who's this?"

The blonde blinked, no words leaving her mouth.

"Hello?"

"It's…it's me. It's Chief, I mean…Brenda," she finished with coy little laugh.

There was silence for about two seconds then the blonde heard a soft sigh. "Hello, Brenda."

"I'm at Malloy's with the squad…and I'm calling from the payphone in the ladies' room, I didn't think it'd work but apparently they've-"

"Why are you calling?"

Brenda bit her lip and leaned against the tiled wall. "I was just wondering if…I was thinking that, maybe, if you have time and if you feel like it we could, I dunno, we could-"

"What?"

"Meet?"

She heard Sharon swallow, she knew those lips were working around the word 'no', she knew without having to hear it but then the woman said, quite out of the blue, "Okay…where? I can't show up at Malloy's."

"Um," the door opened, Brenda's breath got stuck in her throat and she felt like all the blood in her body had rushed south and was suddenly residing in her feet. "Uh. Our place? Okay?"

She hoped Sharon understood, she really hoped Sharon understood. "I'll see you there."

"Alright, then-"

_Click_.

Brenda glared at the phone – she didn't know why she still bothered.

* * *

Brenda stepped into the red light. She had expected the place to be bursting with thirsty, dancing clientele but found the Mountain Bar surprisingly empty. There were a few people occupying the bar, some were sitting at the tables, you could hear their chatter over the music and some were already on their way to a very short night, especially that guy dancing by himself, holding a drink.

He looked fairly at ease and he didn't hurt the ambience of the place nor its apparent sophistication, he fit right in in his meditative state.

People went out later these days, she thought and let her gaze sweep over the place for a second time in search of Raydor, not finding her.

She should have been there by then. Brenda worried her bottom lip and walked over to a booth in the back with a certain reluctance in her step. As she sat and looked around for a moment, her brain slowing down, Brenda felt little anxiety over the fact that she would be face to face with the woman she kind of, maybe, had a little tiny bit of phone sex with.

They hadn't spoken much.

But still.

Brenda flushed; _oh, dear lord! _

For a second she felt mortified, the fact that Raydor had done the very same thing, had even instigated it, didn't matter much or make it better. On the contrary.

The blonde smoothed her jacket down a bit and-

"What can I get you?"

Brenda looked up at the waitress then glanced toward the entrance. "Um, nothing yet, thank you, I'm waiting for someone."

The girl smiled. "I'll come by later again, alright?"

"Alright…thanks."

She left and it occurred to Brenda that she had no idea what she was supposed to do with Raydor in a bar.

Talk?

Stare at the woman while she wanted those lips tasting her chocolate and that mouth eating her candy?

Brenda swallowed and sucked the very corner of her bottom lip into her mouth; she had no idea what to do with the woman. They couldn't just up and check into some classy hotel late at night, that was for sure.

The blonde breathed out deliberately and fussed with her hair; she hoped her lipstick was okay, she had applied some in the car earlier. She looked around again, toward the entrance first and hoped she didn't have any lipstick on her teeth.

Then she stared down at her cleavage or rather lack thereof. She was wearing a vintage jacket, the dark blue velvety one that she hadn't worn in quite some time. It was one of her favorites and she was glad it was winter, so to speak, because she knew Raydor wouldn't appreciate what was underneath that jacket.

A flower-print dress. Brenda suddenly felt very self-conscious as she smoothed the dress over her knees under the table.

She stilled – did she really want to impress Raydor that bad?

No. She did not. She liked her dress just fine.

Raydor had her aloofness, her little rulebook, her calm demeanor and her sharp remarks, that attitude that kept everyone at a distance to ward off those feelings of inadequacy, of sadness and hopelessness when faced with the daily horror, the daily deceit and cruelty of human beings.

Brenda had her dresses. She had the bright colors and she had her own little world that she liked to remain in because she wasn't really made for the one out there. She liked it just fine that way. She didn't mind coming off as detached and too driven sometimes. It was the only way she knew she could do her job without losing her mind.

She liked her dresses. They didn't make her look too stern, too hard, too aloof, too much like Raydor. They served their purpose.

Raydor hated them. She thought it was a weakness when a woman didn't know how to dress which, Brenda had to admit, perhaps it was. Women were often judged by their appearance first, Brenda just didn't care, whereas Raydor used it to her advantage.

Everybody knew what was coming wrapped in those geometrical jackets and those perfect little skirts.

_And those legs…_

Brenda blushed but couldn't help and grin a little.

She couldn't believe she had called the woman! And after what they had done too! The blonde wanted the ground to open up and swallow her alive. The things Sharon had said on the phone, Brenda hadn't expected those or maybe she had but hadn't really wanted to hear them.

Suddenly she felt like she knew too much. She didn't want to know anything, really, at least not about Sharon because that meant being closer than they had agreed upon.

But then again, it had been supposed to be a one time thing and then they had had phone sex which felt an awful lot more intimate than just sex and now she was sitting in a bar waiting for the very woman she wanted to get rid of, pull up a wall, never see again, ever!

What in the world was she doing here?

"Brenda?"

The blonde looked up. Sharon was standing before looking glorious. Not much different than usual, really. The woman sat and scooted toward Brenda until their knees were touching under the table.

"There you are," the blonde said.

"Here I am."

Brenda felt a flush creeping up onto her cheeks, she was 16 again and she felt her heart beat its way out of her chest and her palms begin to sweat and her unadulterated, almost hormonal desire for the woman flare up.

It was because she didn't know what she wanted, Brenda knew that. She swallowed, she was out of her comfort zone, she hadn't thought this through, she had no idea what she wanted to happen, where this would go, she had somehow surrendered, given up control and if she wanted to get it back, she would have to make up her mind and soon.

"There are two hotels we could go to. One is dangerously close to being downtown, so I was thinking we should g-"

"What?" Brenda interrupted, confused.

"A hotel," Sharon said slowly as if talking to a stupid person. "Somewhere we can go to, unless you're planning on sitting here all night."

Was she? Brenda had no idea. Perhaps they should talk, talk about what they were doing. Perhaps they should just quit and go their separate ways. Perhaps it was for the best. "Do you have some kind of map in your head with all the hotels of all of Los Angeles on it?" Brenda wondered contritely.

Sharon just blinked at her then said, "No, but I do have a very smart phone."

"I know what smartphones are."

"Well then maybe you can use yours to calculate the fastest rout home, to your husband-"

"Fritz," Brenda interrupted, "His name's Fritz. And I don't wanna talk about him, okay? I just don't wanna talk about him, ever." She shook her head in irritation.

"I'm leaving," Sharon announced and was about to scoot out of the booth when the blonde caught the sleeve of her blouse.

"Don't leave," Brenda said petulantly, rolling her eyes at the woman's childish behavior, completely missing her own part in this. The brunette gave her that prompting look, that raised eyebrow and Brenda really wanted to scoff at that. Perhaps quitting was for the best considering she was about ready to strangle that woman.

"So, where's that hotel?" The blonde's face fell; she hadn't meant to say that, she hadn't meant t-

"Five minutes from here. Let's go."

And without really thinking much of anything, Brenda scooted out of the booth right after Sharon. It was then that the waitress came by again, wearing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Can I get you anyth-"

"No, thank you," Sharon interrupted and held out her hand to Brenda who, without even the littlest bit of hesitation took it and stood. "Bye…"

The blonde managed to suppress the smirk threatening to overtake her features and followed the woman across the room and out the door. As they crossed the parking lot, Raydor's heels clicking on the asphalt, Brenda began to realize that she was indeed about to have sex with the woman. Again!

The blonde swallowed and blinked.

She kept on walking.

What in the world was she doing?

Brenda felt an immediate panic grip at her heart. How did the woman just talk her into these things? She should quit is what. She should talk her way out of this again. She should turn on her heel and go.

"We should take separate cars."

The blonde blinked again – separate cars? Oh. "Oh, yes, of course." She smiled helpfully and clutched at her purse as they came to a halt next to Raydor's car.

"You will have to follow me," the woman said with a teasing smile and her voice all dangerously low and velvety.

Brenda took a tentative step forward before she could help it, drawn to the woman like a moth to the flame. She grinned a little and looked at Sharon through thick eyelashes. "Contrary to popular belief, I can do that just fine."

"Oh, yes?"

"Yes," Brenda said coyly. "Just depends on who's askin'…"

Sharon smirked, her eyes crinkling when that look appeared on her face again, the rare one, the approving, affectionate one that Brenda couldn't help but marvel at. The woman leaned in, bemusement shining in her eyes and then she said in a tone that could only be described as husky, "I'm not asking."

Brenda felt her insides melt, her heartbeat speed up and the palms of her hands turn sweaty. She barely managed to swallow and couldn't bring herself to retort as Sharon's fingertips danced over her hips. She felt the woman's energy shift, closer resembling her own, the desire palpable then Sharon's lips softly touched her jaw, a soft kiss, another, and another until her tongue tasted the blonde's neck.

Brenda's eyes closed even though she wanted to protest. She knew Sharon didn't mean to do it either, she wasn't like that, she knew how to hide things, didn't she? Brenda knew the woman couldn't help herself which did nothing to encourage her resolve to not crumble.

"Not here…"

Sharon nodded, nosing her neck and exhaling deliberately through her parted lips. The blonde felt goose bumps break out all over her body, she shivered yet felt hot all over.

"I can't help it," the woman said evenly.

Neither could Brenda. The blonde breathed in the woman's scent, her hair tickling Brenda's nose as she did so then she opened her eyes, saw a man walk across the parking lot, eyeing them. He had no idea who she was but as her gaze met his, Brenda became startlingly aware of where they were, of how dangerous this was, how stupid, frankly.

She felt Sharon's fingertips press just that little bit harder into her flesh and a thought flitted through her mind, Sharon's fingers inside her but not here, not yet. "Take me to that hotel, Captain."

The brunette hummed and drew back slowly as if it ached to do so. "Follow me, Chief Johnson…"

* * *

As she saw the hotel, Brenda was sure that her heart had ceased beating. On the very short drive she had refused to contemplate the situation from certain angles – all she had thought about was that last time with Raydor, in bed, the woman's soft skin rubbing against her own.

She had tried to recall in as much detail as possible how the woman had sounded, what she had said, how she had moaned at all the touches Brenda had bestowed upon her.

She had pictured that expression on Sharon's face, her eyes barely open, her lips parted just so, how the bottom one had trembled a little when she had entered her, their breasts pressed together…

Brenda could almost hear that feeble, choked little sound Sharon had made in the back of her throat and how the woman had dug her fingernails into her back, mouth open in a silent moan, eyes unfocused until they closed firmly and the woman had come in her arms.

The blonde bit her lip as she pulled into the parking lot and shifted in her seat.

Just thinking about it let the desire curl along her spine. That keen, vulnerable sound the woman had made as her muscles had locked around Brenda, that sound made her shiver, it felt sharp and painfully arousing and it may very likely be the sexiest thing Brenda had ever heard or seen or felt.

She clung to that feeling, not that she had to, the wetness between her legs was attest to that, but she clung and didn't dare think about her actions too much. That feeling was all that mattered, there was nothing else for once, thankfully, she thought not knowing why.

Brenda jumped as her passenger side door opened and Sharon slid into the seat beside her. "Okay," the woman said before the blonde had even had the time to cut the engine. "I'll wait here while you go inside and get us a room. One out here would be great and I was thinking tha-"

"Why do _I_ have to get the room?"

"Why not?"

"…because." Brenda's nostrils flared; she couldn't go in there and get a room for them, what if someone saw her?

Sharon scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Sometimes I can't help but wonder if you're not doing this on purpose..?"

"I am not!"

The brunette glared at her, her eyes narrowed imperceptibly and she wore that distasteful expression, the one that announced that whatever was to come out of her mouth next was probably an insult. "From all the people out there I could have picked, you are clearly the worst choice I could have possibly made."

Brenda was about ready to burst. "You're not so stellar yourself."

"Oh, _please_!"

The blonde bit down on her next remark and swallowed her anger, her pride, because she felt the unmistakable signs of sexual arousal curl along her spine, tickle in her belly and throb between her legs.

This was her foreplay, she knew it, Raydor knew it. "Can we just not…" She searched for the right word but found none better suited or less insulting than, "talk…and get on with this?"

Sharon gave her an incredulous laugh. "If I hadn't been called a bitch to my face more times than I could count then I would probably feel…very, _very_ insulted by that."

She laid the guilt on thick but not really, Brenda knew that, it was just a game, a game that she had come to enjoy playing. The blonde leaned over on impulse, "Captain," she said and felt Sharon recoil just a little then she husked into the woman's ear, "If you get us that room, I promise I'll make it worth your while…"

Her lips brushed ever so slightly over the woman's cheek then she nibbled playfully and with practiced nonchalance on Sharon's jaw.

"Not working," the brunette said, her voice coming out dangerously low.

Brenda smirked and drew back, letting the amusement shine in her eyes deliberately, knowing it would annoy the brunette to have her resolve questioned.

But instead of the satisfaction she thought she would feel, Brenda felt breathless.

The woman was stunning and she wanted her more than that silly room.

The things Sharon Raydor had said, told her on the phone the other day, those things she wouldn't say to Brenda's face in a million years, came back to haunt the blonde.

She went completely still, noticeably so because Sharon's questioning eyes darted over her face and then, without meaning to, without knowing why, without being able to help it, Brenda reached up. She hesitated for a moment then her fingertips touched the woman's cheek.

She caressed it.

Brenda blinked, barely managed to not shiver and trailed her fingertips over the woman's lips. She felt warm puffs of air as Sharon exhaled, felt the woman shiver from the sheer force of her heartbeat and reveled in it.

There was a throb between her legs, sharp, almost paralyzing her with its intensity.

"…I…I still don't know what to do with myself," she said because she knew Sharon would never say anything about that night and reached up for the woman's glasses, "That's how bad I want you."

The brunette let out a husky little sound as the blonde pulled the glasses down slowly.

Brenda sat them down without ever averting her gaze for even the smallest moment and swallowed at the thickness the air had taken on. Sharon just stared at her, unmoving then her eyes darted to Brenda's lips, she shivered, the blonde didn't know why and then Sharon pulled her in and pressed their lips together.

Brenda melted, she completely dissolved and sunk helplessly into the kiss with a faint, defeated whimper of surrender.

It wasn't sweet necessarily, it wasn't harsh or forceful but rather impressively sensual how her Captain commanded the kiss and led her further and further into arousal. She felt the woman's cool hand slide over her knee, under her dress, her palm was clammy and her fingertips cold which was perhaps the reason for the goose bumps that came and went but Brenda couldn't be bothered with details like that.

She reached down, quickly because she needed it that way, fast, and pulled the woman's hand between her legs, to her underwear and the heat that would surely warm those fingertips if not melt them.

Sharon startled at the sudden move, so much so that she bit Brenda's bottom lip.

The blonde recoiled, still clutching the woman's hand and pressing it against her panties and sucked her lip into her mouth. It stung yet the skin wasn't broken, thankfully.

"I'm s-"

Brenda silenced the woman with a finger and watched the wide-eyed expression on her face relax somewhat. The blonde leaned right back in, how couldn't she with the woman's hand almost where she needed it, and kissed her into next week.

Sharon grabbed the back of her neck and pulled the blonde against her lips. The kiss turned sloppy as Brenda felt the woman pull on her underwear then squeeze her hand into the small panties.

The blonde almost bit down on Sharon's lip herself when she felt the length of a whole finger slide over her clit to her opening, and shivered in response to it. Brenda tore her lips away. "Wait, wait," she said breathily, her fingernails digging into Sharon's forearm then she shifted, crossed to the other side of the car on her knees and straddled the woman.

"Now," she whispered hoarsely into that mane, "Now."

Sharon entered her, pushed her finger in and out, slowly, so slowly that Brenda felt every single inch of the woman. A second finger filled her and Brenda couldn't help but hum at the strength, the hardness that seemed to smooth along every curve inside her. "Yes," she breathed so quietly, Sharon might not even have heard it.

The woman kissed along her neck as she pushed her fingers inside all the way until Brenda felt delicious, torturous pressure against her clit. She moved against the hand immediately, she had to press herself against it or else she might die but that seemed to be the theme whenever she was sleeping with the woman.

Her hips moved slowly, once, twice, on the third time the brunette met her with a fierce thrust.

"Yes," Brenda said, louder this time.

Sharon's cool fingers inside her was the best thing Brenda had felt all week. She opened herself up to the woman who worked on the button of her velvet jacket. Brenda reached up also, they fumbled, breathing heavily against each other's lips as they moved in almost perfect sync faster and faster running toward sweet, sweet release.

There was no time for anything else, there was no will for anything but that and even if Sharon hadn't picked up on it or had refused to give Brenda what she desperately needed, the blonde would have made her.

She needed not only release, she also needed to feel the woman again and know that she would feel her for days to come. It would have embarrassed her to think such a thing in any other situation but while moving against Sharon's hand while her fingers were buried so deep inside of her that it hurt, that Brenda didn't know where she ended and Sharon began, she didn't think twice about admitting it.

"I want you in the worst way," she said, panting.

Sharon kissed and licked along her neck then murmured against her skin, "I want you more than that." She didn't look up, she didn't say anything else but fiddled with the last button of the jacket.

For a moment Brenda contemplated the danger of the situation, contemplated getting caught, yet her hips would not cease moving, if anything, they moved faster, spurred on by the danger.

The last button of the jacket gave way and Brenda shrugged out of it hurriedly, throwing it on the backseat then she immediately wove a hand through that thick hair and pulled Sharon to her chest. For a moment Brenda managed to hold relatively still to allow the woman to pull down her dress and expose her bra just like she had that first time on the chaise.

Sharon tore at the cup and Brenda stared down as the woman squeezed her breast roughly. It was apparent, at least to the blonde, that her Captain had had a talk with herself, had perhaps used the time to become more comfortable with herself and was now intent on commanding Brenda's body like she had wanted to yet had been too unsure of the first time around.

The blonde could barely stand the sight of Sharon's lips sliding wetly, tongue, teeth and all up the inside of her breast to her nipple. Brenda's eyes threatened to close as she felt that warm mouth engulf not only her nipple but the areola as well.

It felt like silken lava, like moist, molten heat.

Brenda sighed. "Oh, yes…" She buried her nose in Sharon's hair, caressed it and felt, for a small moment, almost affection for the other woman.

Then Raydor put her arm around her hips and dared trying to control her movements. Brenda's eyes opened, it felt good, it felt more than good, she spread her legs a bit more yet she couldn't help the mild annoyance at the woman's audacity…

…even though she seemed to know almost exactly how Brenda needed it and the blonde couldn't believe how downright amazing her Captain was at this.

How dare she!

Brenda leaned forward, pushing the woman back into the seat and felt her teeth scrape dangerously, almost painfully against her nipple. "Oh, yes," Brenda whimpered because, if she were honest with herself, she would know that she wanted the woman to maybe bite, maybe suck, maybe dig her fingertips…_right there!_

Sharon squeezed her ass, her fingernails digging sharply into her skin through the material of her dress.

If she were honest with herself, Brenda would readily admit that she wanted the woman to leave her marks upon her body.

The blonde pulled on a fistful of strong hair, tearing Sharon's lips from her breast and crashed their mouths together. She kissed the woman ferociously, tongue sliding past her lips, she kissed so hard, trying to convey her desire to the woman, that she worried little about her lips.

Brenda wove her fingers tighter through that thick mane that she truly hated for its luster, it's luscious coif that she could barely resist and reached down with her free hand before she could stop herself and then she pushed the woman harder against herself, forcing her fingers just that little bit further inside.

"Happy now?" Sharon mumbled suddenly against her lips, her fingertips digging harder into Brenda's butt.

"Yes," she whimpered and let out a strangled moan as the woman entered her unexpectedly roughly.

"Like that?"

Brenda didn't answer but instead she reached up, bracing herself against the ceiling then reaching back for the dashboard. She managed to look at the woman one more time before her eyes closed involuntarily, saw that smirk and knew she would come whenever the woman decided to make her.

She was beyond wet and she wished she could spread her legs a bit more, she wished she had gone out there and gotten them a room where she could be sprawled out on the bed and Sharon Raydor doing her on it but instead they were steaming up the windows of her car while she had her dress bunched up around her hips and her panties ruined.

And if anyone saw the car rock like this or heard her moan the woman's name, they would know and she could end up in a whole lot of-

Brenda pushed the thought aside and reached for Sharon as her hips moved out of sync, their rhythm broken by her inability to get even that right in her state. She wanted to say something but couldn't, Sharon understood though and pulled her closer, controlling her movements, back and forth, in and out.

Brenda surrendered to it, relaxed and regretted it the second Sharon pushed her hand against her clit so hard that the blonde's eyes shot open. She wanted to reach down, end the piercing sensation but found her fingers unable to let go of the woman.

The blonde's eyes rolled back and it was happening again. The stabbing, electric current of imminent sexual satisfaction shot right down between her legs, she felt soft all over, powerless, drowning in it until she had almost enough before it even started.

She hovered on the brink until a moment the length of a blink of an eye felt like a small eternity and then Brenda's muscles tensed and she felt her walls grip those fingers tightly, almost too tightly and a bit of wetness tickle down the inside of her left thigh.

She held onto the woman, clutched at her, grasped as much of her as she possibly could as she felt an orgasm of almost violent intensity wash over her.

Brenda gasped, whined, dug her fingernails into the woman's back and cried out keenly, the pleasure she experienced robbing her of all sense, of all fear of being too loud, of being discovered, it all didn't matter as long as she had the woman's fingers buried inside her.

Sweaty, satiated, breathing heavily, Brenda opened her eyes, realizing that she was holding onto the woman a bit too tightly. Her body shook in exertion as she eased her grip, she suddenly felt cold and couldn't help but bury her nose in Sharon's mane.

She breathed in and out leisurely, caressing the woman's hair as she experienced the last aftershocks. Sharon drew it out like she always did, moving her fingers just so, coming dangerously close to sparking yet another wildfire she would have to put out.

Brenda contemplated that for a moment then decided that they would have to get that room because she was too old for car sex even though she didn't particularly mind right then.

Her gaze swept about the car, the dark parking lot…

"Oh, for heaven's sakes," Brenda mumbled under her breath.

"What?"

She grabbed Sharon's wrist and stared down at the watch. "Oh, for heaven's sakes! It's past ten already! Fritz's gonna be home any minute…ooooh!" She shifted experimentally.

"And what does that mean…exactly?" Sharon asked with that dangerously low voice, extricating her fingers faster than the blonde would have liked.

Brenda stilled and looked down at the woman. "I have to go."

Sharon's eyes narrowed as she wiped her hand purposefully on the flower-print dress with an almost scathing look on her face. "You can't be serious…"

Brenda swatted the woman's hand away and made for her seat.

And fell flat on her butt in it, sideways, one of her legs tangled with Sharon's. "I didn't plan all this," she defended herself, "It's not like I'm doin' it on purpose!"

The brunette scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Well, then I better let you go on your way."

While Brenda righted herself in her seat, it became evident that the woman was rather fed up with her at that moment and as silly as it sounded, because she couldn't stand the woman all that much, Brenda didn't want them to part like this. She reached over, like she had done before, and held onto Sharon's hand.

"I'm sorry," Brenda said and looked into the woman's eyes.

Sharon stared back at her, stony-faced, steely-gazed and her lips pursed so much she looked like she had eaten something sour. It was her mad look, the one where she was not only angered but angered on a rather personal level and ready to kill somebody.

"I really am," Brenda added for good measure and leaned over. She was afraid the woman would bite her head off as she kissed her on her pursed lips but she didn't, instead she sighed in defeat.

The blonde drew back a little and was met with a somewhat softer look. She caressed Sharon's cheek and tried a smile. "I'll pay you back," she said, "I promise." She kissed the woman again but this time it wasn't one of the cute kisses, not one of the sweet ones but a deep, demanding and sloppy wet one that spoke of forbidden things.

Brenda leaned back and smirked, she licked her bottom lip as she watched the corners of Sharon's mouth lift ever so slightly. "Great," the woman said somewhat mockingly yet with clear amusement coloring her voice.

"Well, good…" The blonde responded awkwardly then blushed for no apparent reason. She fiddled with the hem of her skirt and patted her hair into place. "Um, than-"

"Don't say that," Sharon interrupted gravelly.

Right, Brenda thought, right.

The blonde stared at the woman for a moment, at the familiar wrinkles around her eyes, at the very, very familiar arch of her lips, her eyelashes as she put her glasses back on and blinked at her from behind them.

"Um. I'll…call you?"

"Of course."

Chocolate, she thought and felt her heart constrict almost painfully within her chest.

Just like chocolate, her Captain was about to become a permanent thing.

The blonde snapped out of it. "Bye…Sharon."

For a moment it looked like the woman would lean over and kiss her goodbye but she didn't, instead she opened the door and put those luscious legs, one after the other, onto the asphalt. Brenda didn't blink, not wanting to miss anything then the car door slammed and silence engulfed her.

She sat like that, unmoving, and staring at the space the woman had just vacated then she watched Raydor's car drive off in her rear view mirror.

She sat, still, and it occurred to her, once the car was out of sight, that she had indeed just done this.

Of course, she had cheated, again, but more so, she had done it with the same person twice and she had just promised the woman that they would meet up again.

Why? Why Raydor? Why now?

She was having an affair.

How did she end up like this?

Brenda opened a window, the scent of sex was sickening, Raydor's deceptively sweet smell was lingering behind in the small space and she couldn't bear it. The blonde leaned forward, resting her forehead against the steering wheel and hugged her stomach.

She closed her eyes.

She couldn't think about this.

What's done is done…

Fritz wouldn't know, in fact, this had absolutely nothing to do with him. He was her husband, her family and Raydor would never, ever intrude upon that, Brenda would make sure of that. Besides, it looked like the woman had no interest in doing so anyway.

These were two separate things, clearly.

She needed this.

A tear fell from her eye and then another before Brenda could stop them both. She wiped at her eyes and sniffled, taking deep breaths in the hopes for quick composure.

She did need this and Brenda had no idea why.

First things first though, she thought and turned on the light – she looked horrible and she did smell it too, she couldn't go home like that.

Right. Brenda nodded to herself and started the car.

* * *

Brenda balled her jacket up and put it on the hood of her car – she couldn't do it, not to that jacket.

Alright then, she thought and picked up the cheap box of wine again. Just a little would do.

One, two…

She splashed the wine on herself, just enough to leave a stain on her front. It trickled down between her breasts rather uncomfortable and soaked up the material of her dress. Brenda put the wine down hastily and fiddled with the paper tissues she had had in her purse and dabbed at the stain.

Well, she looked down at herself contemplatively, she reeked sufficiently of wine.

The blonde took the box, the tissues and made sure of also disposing of the receipt and threw it all in a trash can.

Perfect.

She picked up her purse and her jacket and got back into her car. She drove the remaining four blocks to her house, hoping the stain would dry sufficiently until she arrived, knowing that it would not.

Fritz would probably be asleep already anyway after the day he had had but she had decided to not take any chances.

She drove up to the house and leaned forward in her seat, trying to assess if Fritz was indeed in bed but found that the light in the living room was still on.

Oh, for heaven's sakes…

Brenda swallowed convulsively as she parked the car in the driveway. She cut the engine then gripped the steering wheel to keep her hands from shaking. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, the top of her head was about to explode and if she didn't breathe soon she would pass out right there on the spot.

The adrenalin in her veins tunneled her vision as she opened the car door and stepped out. Her knees felt like jelly as she made her way up to the backdoor. She fumbled, turned the key in the lock, and hoisted her purse further up on her shoulder one last time as she held the doorknob in her hand.

Brenda swallowed heavily and took a deep breath; she was about to die, pass out, faint, whatever, she barely managed to hold herself upright.

She loved it. She loved the feeling.

What was wrong with her?

She entered.

There could be no mistakes.

Not a one.

"You're still up," she said, stating a fact rather than asking a question as she found Fritz on the couch in his pajamas.

He looked up at her tiredly, his eyebrows high on his forehead. "Thought I'd wait up for you or we wouldn't have seen each other all day."

Brenda nodded, sucked on her lower lip then decided to smile. "Well, some guy bumped into me and I spilled wine all over myself…I smell like a bar," she smiled a bit wider, "so I guess I should…shower."

"How's Flynn?" Fritz asked evenly before she could flee to the safety of her bathroom.

"Oh, well, he's doin' fine, he's just a little upset about the timin' is all – the sling's gonna come off right before Christmas, so he'll be back on full duty."

Fritz nodded, once. "Too bad."

"I s'pose it is." Was she being too cautious? "I'm gonna hop into the shower real quick and I'll…see you in bed."

"Yep."

Brenda turned on her heel and walked into the bathroom. She locked the door and leaned against it. Did she come across as awkward? Scared? Did he smell it on her?

Or worse, did he see it on her?

Brenda looked in the mirror; she did look like somebody who had been in a bar for a while, there was nothing unusual about her, at least not as far as she could tell. The blonde checked her neck, checked her velvet jacket, checked her dress, layer upon layer.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

He couldn't possibly know anything.

_Then what had that all been about?_

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Well, since livejournal is being a little bitch right now I've decided to upload here first but don't you guys worry, livejournal will follow. So, I've just come back yesterday, I've visited my sister for a couple days, hence the delay and it's been great. Everyone who's had great weather raise their hand! Heh, sunshine, too many cocktails, too many cigars and card games. Of course we had to break in the new grill my sister's boyfriend made and which I admired him for. After two veggie burgers and two whiskey sours I felt about ready to either burst or die but it was worth it. Anyway, the new chapter is shorter, I've decided to make shorter chapters and try to update faster instead which I think is a great compromise or is it not?

ithinkyourewonderful: Why I do this to you? Ha! It's part of my evil plan. Why I was uncertain about this part? Well, I wasn't sure whether I let Brenda do much too risky stuff way too soon. The downward spiral you mentioned, I wasn't sure if Brenda wasn't spirally a little too fast. As for the 'If such a thing as hell existed...' convo Brenda had with herself, I'm trying to be careful with that sort of thing, religion I mean. Somehow I can't help but think that Brenda might not actually believe in god but perhaps that's just me. I don't like inserting too much of my own opinion because if I keep doing that I will at one point end up writing about myself rather than letting the characters speak for themselves, if that makes sense. Anyway. I'll see you in hell (if such a place exists...which it doesn't) - I'd get a condo too, that would be nice because I imagine the air must be cooler way up than down there with all the lava and the fire and stuff.

Paru-sama: I will keep writing, count on it and thank you :)

Kiva4ever: Thanks for reading. Btw, I've read your update, I should comment and I will, sorry I'm so neglectful :( But I'm really looking forward to more from you - there's so few B/S fic as it is...

KDTB: To be honest, I'd have killed B if it had been me she had left hanging like that. But then again, if Sharon had killed her, there would be no more sex and we can't have that, right? As for getting to know Sharon better, well, there will be actual conversation between them again soon, promise but I still can't bring myself to just reveal everything. It's sort of a process for Brenda...she hasn't been interested in the woman on an emotional or intellectual level so far, so why would we know anything about her, really? Right? But, and this is how I have planned it, the more Brenda gets involved with Sharon, the more interested she gets in the woman, which is what happens when you sleep with a person, the more we will get to know Sharon. Perhaps that sounds annoying :P but I can't help it.

sturtevant: Wow, thank you for the lovely compliment. I love writing this fic and perhaps it shows - the closer, as a fandom, just offers so many roads to take whereas other fandoms are very limited. Anyway, thanks again and I hope you will keep reading...

moxcar2010: Hahaha, you read it twice right away? Perhaps I should read my own writing as well...it's just so darn boring. I'm glad you liked the "good" parts :) Those take the most effort to write actually and I'm glad you appreciate them, hehe.

tenearthimps: Damn, I hate when people do that! I wanna know what you think, it's so exciting! :P

myIllusion: No, thank you! Ha, there's been a lot of action in cars lately, right? I don't know what's going on with me but there will be hotel action soon, yep. I'm glad you're still loving this fic and I'm glad it's interesting, compelling, and most of all amusing (wouldn't want to bore anyone death), so thanks for letting me know. Hope you keep on loving it :)

capa-06: Well, Brenda's just a little slow on the uptake sometimes, right? She should have made the Sharon/Chocolate connection sooner me thinks. As for the car hotness, I think this'll be it...I'm done with cars...maybe :P We'll see. Du hast die 5. Staffel verpasst? Ich hab die auf deutsch nicht mal gesehen aber vielleicht werden die DVDs billiger jetzt wo bald die neue Staffel raus kommt. Ich liebe Spoiler auch, da gibt's keine bösen Überraschungen - manche Sachen kann ich ja echt nicht zu ende gucken wenn ich schon weiß dass sie böse enden :P But, hahaha, It's warm...but not too warm? Heheheheee, that's just hilarious!

I-Love-Capn-Raydor: Okay, what else is on your 'must have' sex list? I'll let you in on something, you might want to cross off desk sex 'cause you're gonna get that sooner than you probably thought, hehe. Rough!Sharon is indeed super duper sexy...I have to write more rough!Sharon. Aww, you wanna get rid of poor Fritzy? He's done nothing wrong :P

healover: Nothing too dramatic with Fritz, promise :) So many questions? Heh - maybe I can answer some? I like questions, I love them, uh huh.

PhalangesDancing: Here. it. is. Sorry. for. the. wait. Hope. you're. still. alive?

Well then...on to the next chapter. Somewhat boring and not much happening but I hope you guys will like it anyway. Once again, thanks to everyone who left a review - I truly, absolutely love them! Thank you so much!

**Chapter Twenty-Seven:**

What's yours is ours…

Brenda peeked into the bedroom and found Fritz in bed, hopefully asleep.

She had showered, cleaned herself of all traces of sex and had washed the woman off her skin. She had thought about the situation she had maneuvered herself into while she had stood under the hot stream, hissing as she felt the familiar, what she now called, Raydor sting between her legs.

Dealing with her extramarital activities had been nothing compared to this. She had cheated, she had put a stop to it, the end – it had been easy to reconcile it the way she felt about Fritz, with her life, her marriage but this?

She was having an affair.

An affair!

Only unhappy people had affairs, people who fell out of love with their spouse, who fell in love with somebody else, who were stuck in a marriage with somebody they didn't want…

Brenda slipped under the covers and listened to Fritz breathe in and out. It wasn't true. People had affairs for all kinds of silly reasons.

She was doing it for sex.

But that wasn't true either.

Brenda held her breath, she would cry if she didn't and stared into the darkness. She should start thinking about these things, she should know why she did what she did, so much was at stake here, so much she was risking and she should at least be aware of her own feelings.

One of the things she should probably admit was that she did not really hate Raydor…all that much. At all. Really. Hate was such a strong word for her mild dislike for the woman. Although she couldn't really call it dislike either, Raydor was merely aggravating sometimes and annoying but Brenda didn't dislike her per se.

She had actually, maybe, kind of, somehow ended up liking her, a little bit.

Brenda regretted that they had slept together because now they couldn't ever be friends. Not that she had ever truly contemplated the idea.

She also wasn't the friendly type, neither she nor Raydor, come to think of it.

The blonde had always been the odd one out, she had always had a hard time making friends, not that she had sat in her room, alone, sulking about that very fact, no, Brenda had had very little desire to make friends.

Frankly, she loathed other people, at least some of them, and she found them to be too slow sometimes for her liking. They made a fuss about stuff and they were easily angered, they got upset about the littlest things. And commitment? Brenda rather avoided it, as well as personal responsibility.

She just wasn't as sure about things in her personal life as she was in her professional – there she knew what she was doing.

With Fritz it was rather easy. Brenda had always liked him and had always found him to be very attractive but the best about him was that he just understood her, he knew how to deal with her. Brenda knew she was somewhat peculiar and that it required a certain type of person to get along with her, to love her and Fritz was one of them.

Yes, he was emotional and yes, he got upset a lot but he loved her enough to put up with it and knew her well enough to figure out a way to make it work despite all that.

Raydor? She wasn't particularly emotional and she didn't get upset a lot, at least not about the things people usually got upset about. Brenda sometimes watched her for no apparent reason, she watched her write those little notes in her little pad and she marveled at the whole different plane of thought the woman was on.

Deep down Brenda knew they were more alike than different. In fact, they were probably so much alike that…

The blonde exhaled slowly – déjà vu.

Brenda had never met anyone like that woman, somebody who was like her so much. It was very attractive. It may not be the only thing that attracted her to Raydor but it surely played a part in her immense desire to be intimate with the woman.

She turned onto her side and stared at Fritz's profile.

She wondered if Raydor felt the same.

She wondered why she hardly ever thought about anything when she was with the woman.

"Can you not stare at me when I'm trying to sleep…" Fritz murmured and rolled over, turning his back to her.

Brenda stared at it. Stared.

"Aren't you going to ask?" He wondered, his voice muffled by his pillow.

She didn't like passive-aggressive even though she was the master of the art. "If there's somethin' you need to get off your chest then go ahead."

What was happening between them?

"We have to talk about something," Fritz said, "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" She resented that. "What do we need to talk about?"

"If you'd asked about my day earlier, you would know."

Brenda scoffed and sat up. "I just came home and I was smellin' like a bar and you're tellin' me that you would've wanted to talk about your day like that? And now you're mad at me for somethin' we wouldn't have talked about anyhow!"

Fritz turned onto his back and rubbed his face with both hands. "I'm just mad at the situation in general…"

"Which is?" Brenda prompted. "The mole situation?"

"That too," Fritz sighed and looked up at her.

"Then what else?"

The exhaled and pulled the covers aside. "That you're not going to take the promotion that's being offered to you on a silver platter-"

"And I thought that I had made myself clear? I don't want that job!"

"I know, I know," he said and sat up. "You've known that all along but I'm just trying to wrap my head around that which I wouldn't have to do if you talked to me once in a while."

"I talk to you all the time. About everything."

"Everything?" Fritz climbed out of bed. "How about what you told Will Pope, about his job? Or what about Raydor?"

"Of course you're gonna bring that up."

"I'm sorry that it's not something I can just get over like that."

Brenda snorted yet crawled across the bed and reached for his hand. "Come back to bed, okay? We'll talk about it tomorrow, I promise."

Fritz sighed yet climbed back into bed. "We should have dinner…" He said and pulled the blanket back up.

"Dinner?" Brenda asked. "What did you do?"

"I can't have dinner with my wife?"

"You could if you weren't being so mysterious about things." She pulled the blanket up as well, just under her chin and pursed her lips in the darkness. "We would've had some big fight right now if you hadn't done something you felt guilty about."

"I'm not feeling guilty," Fritz retorted even though he started to feel a strange bit of bemusement in his chest because somehow he had seen all this coming.

"Well then what is it? You are aware that I won't be sleepin' well, thinkin' about all this, it's gonna be all your fault if I can't concentrate on the case…with Delk callin' every three hours for a status report and I got nothin' new to tell him with-"

"How thick are you gonna lay it on, Brenda?"

The blonde lifted a smug eyebrow. "As thick as I need to in order to get you to confess."

Fritz snorted, trying not to chuckle and turned over. He stared at her in the dark, his breath slow and even. "Alright…I'll give you a full confession under one condition."

"Which is?"

"Dinner. Tomorrow. With my wife."

Brenda gave the matter very serious thought and said, "Fine. I'm listenin'."

"Well," he said, "You know, the whole situation requires that a couple people get moved around a little to get all the work done that this…person created for us."

"Alright…where are they movin' you?" Brenda asked immediately, not beating around the bush.

"Headquarters."

Brenda sat up. "That's San Diego!"

"But it's not that far away…" Fritz tried consoling her by rubbing gently over her arms but the blonde wouldn't have any of it; even in the darkness of their bedroom Fritz could practically feel the scathing glare she sent his way. "Okay…but it won't be for long and honestly, I'd rather go there for a couple days than be stuck in a tiny office with a bunch of cranky guys going over every word that rat's ever written."

"And how long are we talkin' about?" The blonde scrambled out of bed, upset and wide awake. "You know my parents are comin' for Christmas! And who's gonna take care of them when you're not there?"

"Uh…you?"

Brenda tapped her foot, standing in the middle of the bedroom. "…you know I'm not so good at that!"

"Maybe you should just try?"

"And what if there's a murder?" She wondered and walked off out of the bedroom.

Fritz scrambled out of bed as well and yelled, "There won't be!"

"There could be!" Brenda screeched. "You know how stressful Christmas is and how insufferable some people can be around that time. There could be a hundred murders—"

"I didn't even say I was going to be away for Christmas," he said as he came to a halt in the kitchen. "I'm talking a couple days here, that's all."

"That's all?" Brenda asked with raised eyebrows while chewing on a piece of the muffin Fritz had apparently gotten.

"That's all," he reassured her and took the muffin before she could devour the whole thing. "It's just a couple days and I'm sorry I'm leaving you with all the preparations but I'll be back before your parents even get here and I promise I'll do the shopping with your mother."

"You will?"

Fritz nodded and rubbed her arms again. "I will. All of the five hours."

Brenda caved. "Alright then…when are you goin' to go?"

"Day after tomorrow?"

"What? So soon?"

Fritz shrugged. "I'm sure you can find stuff to occupy yourself with while I'm gone. Just don't make the house a mess…or overfeed Joel."

* * *

Fritz would be out of town. He would be out of town for days even which meant that she could spend every one of those rolling around in bed with a certain Captain.

The blonde couldn't believe how greedy she had gotten and how careless! She couldn't do what her overactive imagination alluringly suggested she do, there was no need for it quite frankly and the prospect of sleeping with the woman more than was necessary seemed even more reprehensible than what she was already doing.

There was no need for indulging.

Of course, she still owed Sharon and Brenda could hardly contain herself knowing she would have a couple hours of 'me-time' with her Captain before her parents arrived and turned her life upside down for a week or two.

She loved them, she did with her whole heart but having her parents around always made her feel like a little girl again and much less like the accomplished woman that she was.

Time with Sharon made her feel like she didn't have to be anyone, like it was all about her and not about who she was supposed to be. It was her own thing even though another person was involved but that was only secondary; Sharon did what she did, not leaving Brenda much choice in the matter.

Choices were a bitch, weren't they?

Brenda stared into her candy drawer – the Skittles or…

Fifty-nine dollars.

Brenda sighed, lifting an eyebrow at the M&M's bag.

Whatever was she going to do with those meek fifty-nine dollars?

That didn't even come close to a three or four star hotel!

The blonde's mind started reeling; she couldn't take her credit card, that was for sure, besides, Fritz took care of all those things for her so she couldn't start paying her bills herself – that would be entirely too suspicious.

Cash. She needed cash, plain and simple but she couldn't just withdraw that much without Fritz wondering about it or could she?

She needed another two hundred, Raydor had spent at least that amount of money on her.

Brenda stuffed the bag back into her candy drawer and decided to go through her purse, take all the cash from her wallet.

Barely thirty dollars! How could that be?

"Oh, for heaven's sakes…"

Christmas presents! She could say it was for gifts…but then she would actually have to buy some eventually and…and perhaps she was being paranoid. Perhaps Fritz wouldn't think anything of it.

Brenda nodded reluctantly; perhaps that was what other people, those who got caught, thought when they had affairs. She couldn't be one of them. It started with unaccounted for money and ended with the divorce papers.

The blonde glanced at her watch and closed the file on her desk then stood and swept out into the murder room – she would have to go about this in a whole different way.

"Goin' out, Chief?" Gabriel wondered, asking the question everyone else in the room wanted answered upon their Chief's hasty and determined exit.

"Early lunch," she said and was out the door.

She came back in only a second later, scratching her neck. "My purse…" She said and made her way back into her office.

* * *

$129.95

Brenda picked the heels up and turned them over. Size didn't really matter in this case but they were too expensive anyhow – she couldn't go over the top with this either.

$89.99

She picked them up. Her phone rang. Brenda clutched the shoe under her arm while she wrestled with her purse, thankful that her cell phone was always one of the things that lay relatively close to the top of the pile of stuff she had in there.

The blonde squinted at the screen, it was Gabriel, and picked up. "Yes, Detective?"

"Chief, we found the husband down at the marina. He's dead."

"What?"

"Dead. We don't know more yet, we're just on our way there-"

"The marina?"

"Marina del Rey."

Brenda sighed; for heaven's sakes. She was buying shoes while on duty. She was buying shoes, planning her next extramarital adventure while people got murdered.

A salesperson walked by. "These, please," she said and held out the shoe.

"Chief?"

Brenda ground her teeth, mad at herself. "Who's we, Detective?"

"Flynn, Provenza and I. Sanchez is out, getting the stuff from the pawn shop and Tao is sifting through the phone records."

The blonde nodded as the saleswoman put the shoe back into the carton and put it in a plastic bag. "To me it looked like the husband did it…"

"Could be a murder/suicide."

"That's what I'm thinking," she rummaged around for her wallet. "I'll—uh, there it is. I'll meet you and Lieutenant Flynn at the crime scene."

"Uh, you might wanna wear some flat shoes, Chief, the body is on a boat."

Brenda stared at the shoe box in the plastic bag then handed over her credit card. "I'll keep that in mind, Detective," she sing-songed and hung up.

* * *

"Well," Brenda said, hovering obscenely closely over the body. "That don't look good…"

"No…it doesn't, Chief," Gabriel commented, grimacing at the bone fragments plastered to the bulk by splattered brain matter and blood.

"I don't see how he could've shot himself in the head backways…with a rifle," Brenda got up and looked at Randall who she hoped would say something else but he didn't, her merely nodded. "Oh, for heaven's sakes, I thought we had this all wrapped up!"

"Looks like it unwrapped itself, Chief."

Brenda glared at Flynn who was nibbling on a toothpick. "No kidding, Lieutenant." The blonde scratched her forehead, staring down at the body and wondering why life had to inconvenience her like that. This whole time she had been after the guy and now there he was, dead on the floor of his boat.

"Um, Chief Johnson?" Randall pulled the thermometer out of the man's liver. "Looks like he died before his family did. I'd estimate the time of death between 2 and 3 p.m. yesterday."

"Ooooh, that's hours apart!" She stared at the splattered remains of the man's brain and swallowed heavily then Flynn poked her with his elbow.

"So. What did you have for lunch?" He grinned almost imperceptibly; after all, Flynn was the self-proclaimed master of the poker face.

Brenda gave him a lifted brow yet couldn't help but note that sharp glint in his eyes. "Nothin' that I'm plannin' on throwin' up, Lieutenant," she drawled, heart beating wildly.

She glanced away and she saw him, out of the corner of her eye, lift his brow at Provenza, who shrugged in response.

That glint in Flynn's eyes had been the fine traces, the subtle, underlying sparks of sneaking suspicion.

The blonde felt a sudden, cold fear come over her – out of the ordinary, unexplained lunches. Her mind reeled. She didn't know whether Flynn had ever cheated on his wife…wives or not, if he knew the tell-tale signs, if she presented them that is but she knew at once that she ought to be more careful from now on.

She had thought of Fritz, of how to hide this from him but had neglected to do a very good job of doing so where her squad was concerned. She should have thought of this sooner considering that they saw her, dealt with her on a far more regular basis than her own husband.

Brenda let her eyes sweep over the crime scene – she had been distracted for some time now, hadn't she? How very embarrassing. How very silly of her to not have noticed. She should quit pointing her finger at Delk, people were only going to believe for so long that her preoccupation stemmed from an increasingly stressful work-situation, from added pressure.

"Maybe a scorned lover…"

The blonde looked up at Provenza and stepped over the body in the small space they had all crammed themselves into.

"Look here, Chief. Expensive wine, a romantic CD in the stereo-" The stereo was still on but the CD had finished a long time ago. "-candles…"

"Could've been a romantic night with the wife," Brenda said, looking around the seating area for further clues while Provenza snorted right behind her.

"How many husbands do you know that have romantic nights with their wives?"

"He's right, Chief," Flynn said, only half-serious, "chances are, he had an affair."

An affair.

Brenda suddenly felt very light-headed and hoped she managed to hide that fact sufficiently. She licked her upper lip peering into the sink of the small, tiny kitchenette. "When's SID gonna be here, gentlemen?"

"Uh, any minute now, Chief."

"They better be," she said as Provenza hovered over her shoulder suddenly.

"Is that lipstick?" He wondered.

"They better test those glasses for DNA."

* * *

"C'mon," David said, leaning against his desk. "How'd you know she didn't just pick up his glass?"

Provenza shook his head. "These," he pointed at the two pictures of the wine glasses, each with its own lip-prints on it. "These are two different shades of lipstick."

"They are?" David squinted at the board.

"They are," Flynn confirmed. "See? This is a kind of cherry red and this is more of a slutty red."

"Lieutenant!" Brenda admonished, having been silent for the most part of their conversation.

"What?" Andy shrugged. "It's true."

Tao rolled back from his desk, shaking his head. "I really thought the husband did it. Never even crossed my mind that the wife shot him and her kids."

"That's just unnatural," Julio commented, slumped back in his chair. "I mean…a mother shooting her own kids, that's just…unnatural," he said again, not finding a better fitting word.

"And a father shooting his kids is?" Provenza wondered tartly, pulling the photos of the kids down one by one.

"No," Julio said defensively, "But you know what I mean!"

"You know what I'm wondering," David intervened before the two men could get into an argument. "Who the other woman was?"

Brenda sucked on her lower lip, staring at the lipstick on the two glasses. "The case is closed, Detective, we may never know."

"Maybe that's for the better," Flynn said, leaving against Provenza's desk who swatted at him.

"How is that for the better?" The older man asked. "As far as I'm concerned, they could have done it together!"

"Hey, the guy came in there with a rifle! It was self-defense!"

"Self-defense? She shot him in the back of the head, point-blank and if that's not murder then what is?"

"You know what, gentlemen?" Brenda interrupted, feeling like she couldn't bear the sweating and the wildly beating heart and the sudden bout of guilt any longer. "How about we all go on home now and leave this case open for another day?"

Everyone stared at her. She had always been the one who had demanded that every case they solved would have to be closed properly, the files placed in cartons that had to be sealed and labeled correctly and then had to be brought to storage and everything right away, even if it had been five in the morning.

"Are you sure, Chief?" Provenza asked.

"I am," she said reassuringly and made for her office. "Shoo, everyone! In five minutes, when I'm leavin', I don't wanna see a single one of you, is that clear?"

"Crystal," David said with a grin, shrugging at the others.

Brenda smiled back at him and entered her office. She breathed out as the door closed behind her, the safety of her very own space engulfing her.

She sat in her chair and stared down at one of the many files occupying her desk. This case had rattled her from the very beginning but since finding out that the wife had been the one having the affair, and with another woman no less, Brenda had found herself on edge and her nerves crumbling.

She too wondered who the other woman was though. A romantic evening. Wine. Music. Candles. An intimate setting. Had they been in love? More than just mere bedmates?

If it had been her and Raydor, would people have wondered the same thing?

For a moment Brenda asked herself why she was doing this. Why? She came up fairly empty except for an eerie sense of indifference.

She was having an affair already, no need to fight it now, she thought.

And since she was going to do this anyway, she may as well do it right!

Brenda reached for the phone, no hesitation, no doubt in her mind and started dialing.

Then her door opened.

"Hey, you ready?"

She stared at Fritz and then at the phone. She had not only forgotten to inform her Captain of her plans to bed her again but also that she was supposed to have dinner with her husband.

Brenda hung up and smiled. "Sure am!"

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

moxcar2010: Hmm, I guess this chapter won't prove to be very "interesting" - perhaps a little bit but it sure will prove to be torture, that I can promise. I'm such a meanie but I hope you can hang in there...

tayryn: Mondays are a drag, aren't they? I'm glad I was able to spice up yours :P

ithinkyourewonderful: The more appalling Brenda gets, the more you love her? Ha! I'm actually glad about that, you know? Because I was always a little concerned about peoples feeling - cheating sucks and Fritz is such a nice guy anyway, so it sucks even more, and I always thought people would start hating Brenda for being a two-timing b*tch. As for my vacation, you're right, it was perfect - also, I could OD on whiskey sours, I just loathe the fact that I have to make them myself, plus I have mixed that drink so often (for other people) that I could do it in my sleep...which gets pretty boring, but, oh well, that's why I've started drinking Ward Eights - goes great with cigars :P

ForeverCher: Super huge Raydor packed chapter, hmm, there's a bit of Raydor in this one but I promise, the next one will be full of Raydor - Brenda, Raydor and shenanigans. It is my fault that you're addicted? Hardly - there are anoymous groups for such kinds of things :P However, I am the one who's leaving you desperate for more. I'm trying to update more regularly, uh huh :)

I-Love-Capn-Raydor: So, when are you updating again? You have to! I have bad news - there is no desk!sex yet. I am very sorry and remorseful, honestly, but there will be plenty of action in the next chapter, promise :) I am a terrible tease, right? Too bad I'm the one writing the story, muhahahahahahaaa! Okay. Um. The shower, yes, I could build that in somewhere, in fact I just know the place :P

tenearthimps: This story makes you want to write too? Please do! Pretty please? You know, I actually did consider letting Fritz have an affair but then, I do like angst and melodrama, so letting Brenda off the hook didn't seem fair and angsty enough :P But we'll see...

KDTB: I will keep writing, promise. Can't leave this unfinished now can I? Besides, I already have a sequel in mind...which is insane, right? Anyway. I'm glad you like crazy!Brenda because, honestly, those are the most fun chapters to write. It's fun to have her do crazy things or act completely neurotic and sometimes I have to actually restrain myself, can't go over the top with this :P

capa-06: Yes, desk!sex in the near future...as in next chapters. Sorry. Gut, dass es Spoiler gibt, richtig? Die Handlung geht bei mir sowieso immer flöten wenn die beiden in einer Folge sind - muss dann nochmal schauen, damit ich weiß um was es überhaupt ging...wie jämmerlich, oder? :P

emmalil03: You will submit to my handcuffs if I smooth talk you into them? Well, crap, you live in Australia. As for you being a pervert for loving the phone sex, what does writing it make me then? :P Plus, I have restrained myself!

XbrookebowmanX: Thanks and I will ;)

**Author's Note:** As many of you have already heard on LJ, I currently require pity for my aching back even though I am doing a great job of pitying myself, going 'why me?' constantly. Anyway. I hope you guys like this chapter and sorry for the small delay, ff wouldn't even let me log in, sheesh. Once again, many thanks to everyone who left feedback, I really, truly appreciate it! Thank you guys :)

**Chapter Twenty-Eight:**

…and what's mine is none of your business.

"It's so nice of the government to churn out the money for a flight when you could just drive to San Diego too…"

Fritz nodded, a tight smile on his face. "I know. Isn't that great?"

Brenda merely lifted an eyebrow as she pulled over.

"There's no parking."

"I'm the police, I can park wherever I want."

He contemplated that then shrugged. "Fine. Let's get the luggage out of the trunk."

They exited Brenda's silver Crown Vic right in front of the doors to LAX. Fritz grabbed his trolley bag and extended the handle so he could wheel it while Brenda took the gym bag he had insisted on taking with him as well.

"You seein' Agent Morgan anywhere? You said he'd be waitin' for you right here…" The blonde looked around yet couldn't spot a gentleman looking like a waiting FBI agent.

"Ah," Fritz said as he closed the trunk. "There she is!"

She? Brenda followed his line of sight. There she was. Morgan. She looked fairly competent but Brenda wasn't one to judge people by their looks.

She wore those smart, little pant suits that Raydor wore, the clean cut ones that had as much personality as a broomstick and she was a blonde but not a natural one and she was 35 or at least she looked that way to Brenda.

"You never said she was a she," Brenda said under her breath.

"I didn't?" Fritz wondered then nodded at the approaching woman. "What difference does it make?" He said off-handedly and shrugged. "I haven't known her for long but I think you two could get along…maybe we should invite her and her husband for dinner when we get back."

The blonde smacked her lips, realizing that she was being silly yet somehow unable to completely put those feelings of jealousy aside. "Fine…but you're cookin'."

"Yeah, I better," Fritz joked with one of his grins. "Hey, Morgan."

"Hi! You must be Brenda!" She said somewhat exuberantly and extended her hand. "I'm Holly. It's nice to finally put a face to the name."

The blondes shook hands. "Likewise," Brenda said and smiled pleasantly. "Well…"

"We should get going," Holly pulled her own trolley closer. "I don't know why they would make us go through security and then fly to San Diego instead of letting us just drive there."

"Really?" Fritz wondered and lifted an eyebrow at Brenda.

"Yeah. Seems like a huge waste to me…"

Fritz, obviously very pleased with his match-making skills, grinned satisfied and gave Brenda a chaste kiss. "I'll call you when I get there."

"Alright…have fun…'n I'll miss you…"

"I'll miss you too." He kissed her again and turned to Agent Morgan. "Want me to take that fo-"

Holly set off, pulling her trolley with a pointed look. "I got it."

"By the way…" Fritz began as they walked towards the doors. "We were just talking about inviting you and Reese for dinner…"

"Uhm," Holly said, "Sure…"

They disappeared from view.

Brenda leaned against the car for a minute, calming her breath then opened the trunk and got the shoe box out that she had left there in plain sight. She took it with her and placed it carefully on the passenger seat; for a moment Brenda felt compelled to buckle it in or do the opposite and hide it under the seat so she wouldn't have to see it but decided to just leave the box there as it was.

She had thought about it constantly since she had bought it which had only been two days ago but there was little she could do about it yet.

…bringing it back meant that she was really about to do what she thought of doing but driving that thing around with her felt awful, knowing it was there gnawed at her nerves and Brenda hated the fact that she had made her decision dependent on whether or not she brought that silly box back.

The blonde approached an intersection.

If she turned left, she would get to the shoe store and if she took a right, she would get to work. She really should go to work and give this matter a little more thought.

Yes, yes, she had decided to not fight it anymore, all that did was make her life unnecessarily difficult. This whole self-denial business made her head spin and she ended up on edge and confused and nervous.

Brenda chose the left lane without being able to actually think about it. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, her heart beating violently in her chest.

Fritz hadn't even gotten on the plane yet!

By the time the blonde walked into the shoe store, the box firmly lodged under her arm, she felt little anxiety over her actions, in fact, Brenda felt downright gleeful. "I bought these for my mother," she said and went through her purse for the receipt. "She doesn't like them a single bit, can you believe that?"

"Well, would you like to-"

"Cash back, please," Brenda interrupted, holding out the receipt to the slightly irritated saleswoman. "Thank you so much…"

* * *

The box was gone.

Brenda breathed yet another sigh of relief as she entered Headquarters and felt the smile on her face broadening. She hoisted her purse further up on her shoulder and put an extra swing into her step, bouncing towards the elevators.

The box was gone and she could finally quit thinking about it.

Just that she now could not stop thinking about the ninety dollars she was carrying around in her wallet.

She could afford that room now.

And what a waste it would be if she let this opportunity pass.

She already had the money, right?

And just as her luck would have it, there she was, her Captain Raydor getting into an elevator.

If that wasn't a sign then what was?

Brenda sucked her lower lip in; she had the cash, she had the opportunity and a willing participant, all she had to do was set a date.

The blonde walked faster.

The doors started closing but she made it. "Hi…" She trailed off as she stood in the cabin. "Cap'n Raydor…Sergeant Elliott."

The tall, young man nodded her way, the respect and adoration he had started garnering for his superior officer shining through in the way he greeted her. "Morning, Chief Johnson."

Sharon gave her one of her distasteful half-smiles and mocked somewhat, "Morning, Chief Johnson."

They stood side by side and Brenda almost forgot to push a button. That silly Sergeant Elliott, the blonde thought and inched a little further away from the Captain yet couldn't help but glance at her. She wasn't wearing a skirt but she had on a pair of heels you could stab somebody with.

Brenda swallowed and Raydor cleared her throat.

She was staring; the blonde averted her gaze, her lips curling upward.

She felt tons better now that the box was gone…now that she knew what she wanted, which was Raydor…

Brenda bit her lower lip, still unaccustomed to thinking that way. It shouldn't feel so natural. It shouldn't feel so easy to do, in fact, she should feel awful, terrible but the emotions just would not come. All she had to do was to take a deep breath and let it go, let that clammy, claustrophobic, oppressive and heart-clenching feeling go.

There; Brenda sighed as the elevator slowed down.

She smiled at the occupants of the cabin and stepped out as the doors opened before her. "Y'all have a nice day…"

The doors closed again to Sergeant Elliott's confused look.

Brenda swept gleefully down the hall; she knew what she wanted now and was back to feeling like herself again. Raydor couldn't shake her anymore, she wasn't sixteen, she was a grown woman who went after the things she wanted.

The blonde made her way into Major Crimes, humming to herself seeing as not many of her colleagues had yet arrived. There was Kelly, Brenda wasn't sure what her job description was but she thought of her as a great organizer of things, and there was Mr. Wu who was actually an electrician but hung around here to chat with Martin who happened to be a "computer guy".

"Good morning, everyone," she sing-songed which earned herself a raised eyebrow from Provenza who was sorting through the pile of files they had accumulated over their latest case and were now putting them in the appropriate boxes.

"Morning, Chief," David responded, watching her progress across the room. "So…what's on the…agenda today?"

Brenda halted in front of her office, going through the options that she had not yet thought about because usually she had her whole day mapped out. "When you put that in storage, why don't you bring that cold case of Commander Taylor's back up here, please?"

"Sure, Chief…"

She smiled at him and swept into her office with a gentle, satisfied sigh. She first opened the blinds yet didn't take even a second to observe L.A. hustling and bustling, instead she sat down and rummaged around in her purse. Once she had found her wallet, she opened it slowly, almost reverently, and took out one bill after another.

Brenda counted it, biting her lip nervously, and concluded with quite the amount of glee that she had enough together to afford that room.

The blonde trembled suddenly as she stared at the money.

She opened her candy drawer and took out the M&M's bag into which she stuffed the cash then she dropped the whole package into her purse. While she closed the drawer, Brenda had already picked up the phone and dialed the first number of the extension she already knew by heart, having thought of dialing it at least a hundred times in the past two days.

The blonde pressed the phone against her ear and leaned back in her chair while it rang and rang and rang.

Great, she thought, her hope dwindling, the woman didn't even take her calls anymore, or what?

She had apologized that last time in the car! What else did she want? She was about to pay her back, no need to be a bitch about it!

_Click._

* * *

"Y'all have a nice day?"

Brenda pursed her lips. "I can just go back to bein' mean to you, if you like that better."

Sharon chuckled on the other end of the line, sounding very relaxed. "I don't know. Do you like it better?"

The blonde bit her lip in order to hide her grin and started playing with a paper clip she had found on her desk. "So…" She was mumbling and piddling around the matter again.

"You have five minutes because that's how much time I have before I have to leave for a very important meeting over at DOJ, so, please, what is it?"

"Well," Brenda began coyly, fiddling with the clip. "Fritz just left."

"He's in San Diego, I know."

The blonde's face fell. "How do you always know these things?"

"How about we meet tonight," Sharon went on, ignoring the question. "Let's go out for drinks after work." She sounded as gleeful as Brenda felt.

"Drinks?"

"So we can discuss the details."

Brenda blinked at the sudden yet very subtle insecurity in Sharon's voice, as if she were trying to slowly backpedal. "Of course," the blonde said before Sharon could indeed backpedal and licked her lower lip. "Our place, say, eightish."

"How about eight o'clock, sharp?"

"How about we'll see about that, Captain?"

"I won't wait," Sharon retorted. "And now I have to go."

Brenda could practically see her lift her arm to glance at her watch.

"I'll see you tonight."

"Yes," the blonde responded, blushing suddenly. "B-"

_Click._

"I think I'm gonna go out tonight," Brenda held a gray woolen dress against her body and shook her head, pressing the phone against her ear.

"With whom?" Fritz wondered on the other end of the line.

"With myself," the blonde retorted.

"With yourself?"

"Yes," she said and threw the gray dress on the bed. "Women have been known to go out by themselves and have a great time."

Fritz chuckled. "Just remember to go easy on the wine 'cause there's no one home you can call to pick you up."

"Very funny," Brenda drawled and entered her closet again. "So, what are you up to?"

"Well, Morgan just went out to organize us some dinner – she's actually from here, so that's convenient."

"Sure is," Brenda said tightly and pulled out a pair of jeans. "So, you and 'Morgan' gettin' along?" Too casual…

"Yeah," Fritz said lightly, "She's pretty easy to get along with."

"Unlike myself…"

"Meaning?"

Brenda shook her head at herself and rolled her eyes – she was being silly again. "Meaning…I'm just glad you're at least stuck with somebody you can talk to. I hate workin' with people I don't like…"

"Trust me," Fritz drawled, "I know."

"Well," she went on as if she hadn't gotten the meaning behind that, "I hope you and Morgan have a great time together…she sure seemed nicer than all those other FBI agents I've met."

"Yeah…like me."

Brenda bit her lip and let her fingers trail over the plastic wrapped red dress. "She sure beats you in politeness…and she's not a Yankee."

Fritz chuckled on the other end. "The Yankee you married, how does that reflect on you?"

Grinning, the blonde took the dress with her. "Poorly, I know but there's just something irresistible about you…despite your questionable heritage and the fact that you can be as aggravatin' as the rest of the Feds."

"Gosh," Fritz said mock-serious, "I'm so glad I married you!"

Brenda smiled as she looked the red dress over. "Me too…"

"Oh, there's Morgan and it looks like we're having..?"

"Veggie burgers."

"Really," Brenda drawled as she heard the other woman answer somewhere close to the phone. "I bet you're hatin' her right about now."

"I'm not," Fritz responded, the rustling of paper bags in the background. "I've been trying to get you to try this for years…and that one time you didn't even notice the difference."

Brenda made a face. "Well, I better start watching while you prepare our meals, who knows what else you've been sneakin' in there!"

"Yeah," he said around a mouthful of burger. "You should watch – you might learn a thing or two."

"Was that your way of insultin' my cookin' skills?"

"You mean lack thereof..?"

The blonde sucked her lower lip in and stared at the red dress, the one she would be wearing tonight. "Why don't you and Morgan enjoy your burgers while you're workin' and let me get ready for a night out on the town."

Fritz chuckled. "A night out on the town…"

"Yes," Brenda said slowly, covering the lie with enough truth to make it believable. "I'm gonna paint the town red."

* * *

Crimson red.

The usual color of the Mountain Bar soaked the deep red of Brenda's trench coat crimson.

She felt incredible that night because she knew what she was wearing underneath that coat, because she knew what effect the heels on her feet had, because she knew her Captain Raydor would want her tonight but wouldn't be able to have her.

Brenda's gaze swept over the patrons as she entered the room, oozing confidence.

"Look at that, a scarlet woman."

The blonde turned with a smirk toward the voice, her eyebrow slowly lifting as she regarded her Captain. "Sharon," she said by way of greeting and tugged on the belt of her coat.

"Brenda," the woman replied with the same inflection.

The blonde took her coat off and draped it nonchalantly over a chair at the bar, observing Sharon's reaction from the corner of her eye.

"I see you've made it home to change or did you have to flirt a confession out of your latest suspect?"

Brenda smirked and slid onto a stool. "Suspect…Captain of the LAPD…" She crossed her legs and noted with satisfaction that she had the woman's undivided attention; Sharon looked at her, she didn't stare, she didn't ogle, it was another kind of look that made Brenda's insides feel as if they were melting.

The blonde licked her lower lip slowly and blinked in that alluring way she knew how to do. Brenda wasn't a very good flirter however she rather enjoyed being flirted with but her Captain, the energy between them, made Brenda feel more flirtatious even though she found herself a whole lot more confused and oftentimes terribly unsure.

It was the danger, or wasn't it?

The blonde's eyes, once she had torn them away from Sharon's, landed on a glass of red wine, Merlot presumably. Sharon tapped her fingers against her own glass, it wasn't a Merlot, clearly which made Brenda wonder about the last time they had shared a bottle of wine in that hotel room.

She picked up her glass and nipped.

"Good?"

Brenda nodded. "Very," she said and put the glass down. She wanted nothing more than to lean over and let her Merlot lips touch Sharon's, taste what she had been tasting but she had her back to the room and couldn't watch out for prying eyes.

Her gaze darted from Sharon's lips to her eyes that were focused somewhere past her shoulder, having had the same idea apparently. The blonde swallowed – there could be no kisses, not tonight which only made her yearn for them more.

Brenda sighed and leaned closer to the woman, her hand resting gently on Sharon's knee and pressed her lips to her cheek. "Thank you…" She said breathily, the woman's mere proximity robbing her of all the air in her lungs. "Very much."

The blonde leaned back, an easy smile curling her lips upward as she saw the faint traces of lipstick on Sharon's cheek. She lifted her hand slowly, feeling the other woman exhale, startled, then wiped at the stain with the very pad of her thumb. "There…" Brenda husked, her eyes drifting to Sharon's lips involuntarily.

"So…" The brunette said after few moments. "How about Saturday?"

Brenda blinked while Sharon reached for her glass and took a generous sip of whatever wine she had chosen to drink. "How about tomorrow?"

Sharon shook her head. "Saturday."

"…fine," the blonde let her fingertips dance over her wine glass. "Saturday it is. I'm gonna get the hotel room-"

"You are?"

"Yes. I am. And I will let you know which hotel and everything…"

"Okay." Sharon said lightly and picked up her glass.

Brenda watched as she drank and wondered what she was going to say to the woman now that they had run out of things to talk about. If they had any interests in common, Brenda thought, she had no idea what they could possibly be.

But she didn't want to know much about the woman anyway, that would only complicate matters unnecessarily.

"Well, I'm going to go home now. You should enjoy the rest of your wine…it's already paid for," Sharon slid off her chair.

"…what?"

"You should stay," She went on with a casual gesture of her hand. "Would be a shame to let you go home this early when you're all dolled up like that."

"I thought you said we were gonna have drinks?"

"We did. And now I'm going home."

"Is this because I was late? It was only five minutes-"

"Why did you have to wear that dress?"

Brenda blinked. "Why not?"

"If somebody we knew walked in here and saw you like this, what would they think?" She gestured in the general direction of Brenda's dress and Brenda began to realize that Sharon was probably indeed in a bad mood because of the five minutes she had kept her waiting.

"You can't dress up for our meetings."

The blonde looked down at herself then crossed her legs. "I can dress however I like," she uncrossed her legs again, the dress riding up a little as she did so. "And I've been dressin' for myself anyhow!"

"Really?"

Brenda slid off her own chair. "Well…" She grabbed her coat and advanced nonchalantly on the woman. "I do quite enjoy that look you get," the blonde drawled huskily, taking a breath of Sharon Raydor who tried unsuccessfully, with all her might, to make the look she was currently directing at Brenda seem cold and clinical. "See…that one."

The Captain's expression turned sullen, her lips pursed, her eyes darting about the room.

"Good?" Brenda asked, leaning in.

Sharon glared scathingly at her for a moment, their breaths mingling then her eyes crinkled at the corners and she smirked that barely-there smirk that always drove Brenda right to the brink of insanity. "Very," Sharon husked and stepped away.

* * *

"…just a little bit," Brenda whispered harshly over the heavy breaths hitting her ear in irregular intervals. "Just a bit…" She pulled at the blouse, untucking it, her lips sliding wetly over the woman's neck.

"We-we can't do that…here," Sharon protested yet pulled the blonde closer, moving against her thigh. "What if someone…someone…"

Brenda nibbled on her jaw, her fingers, cool from the night air, sliding over the warm and smooth skin of Sharon's stomach and waist. "Someone what?"

"Sees us oh god stop!" It rushed out of her then Brenda covered the woman's lips with her own, shutting her up, at least for the moment.

And it wasn't like Sharon had really meant it anyway, Brenda thought, because the woman kept kissing her back. She immediately reached for the fine leather belt, pulling hurriedly, tugging, sliding her tongue against Sharon's.

The brunette tore her mouth away. "We can't."

"I need it," Brenda mumbled against her lips.

"_You_ need it?" Sharon asked incredulously.

"I didn't plan all this," the blonde said, panting and finally unbuckling the belt. "I made myself promise this wouldn't happen but look what you did!" She tried opening the button of the pants, licking and kissing along the woman's jaw.

"What I did?" Sharon wondered faintly, her eyes rolling back a little. "You have to stop…" She moaned, her hips moving of their own accord and her fingertips digging into the blonde's backside.

"Or what?" Brenda asked against the woman's skin. "You're gonna put out on the hood of your car?" The blonde opened the button, leaning in a little more, pulling Sharon closer and, yes, actually bending her backwards a little.

"Shhh!"

"Or maybe I'll just-"

"Shut up!" Sharon grabbed her hand, stopping its journey into her pants. "Shhh…"

Brenda blinked, straining her ears to hear the footsteps. _Oh, for heaven's sakes…_

They both went very still, barely breathing as they waited. They heard a car door slam and the motor of what appeared to be a sports car humming and purring somewhere in the darkness. Tires screeched and the car sped off.

Brenda swallowed and exhaled, her eyes in an intense connection with Sharon's. The woman was daring her but would she dare? Of course she would, she was Brenda Leigh Johnson. The blonde pushed her hand into Sharon's pants hurriedly, stretching the material of her panties, probably ruining them but she didn't care and neither did Sharon by the looks and feel of things.

She was warm and wet already, not that Brenda couldn't feel her own arousal between her legs which multiplied as she felt the smooth, silky texture of-

"Okay, that's it!" Sharon said acidly, grabbing Brenda's arm and practically wrenching her hand right out of her pants, which was when the blonde first noticed that her phone was ringing, a sound she had been completely oblivious to up until that very moment.

"Oh, for heaven's sakes…" Brenda made a dive for her purse that had ended up somewhere on the ground near the left front tire, some of its contents spilled. She found her phone right there, next to her lipstick on the pavement.

Squinting at the screen, Brenda straightened, huffing and feeling somewhat guilty when she saw Sharon tucking her blouse back into her pants.

"Yes? Detective Gabriel?" She panted.

The brunette leaned heavily against her car, buckling her belt.

"What? No, Detective, what would you be interruptin'?"

Sharon rolled her eyes and Brenda leaned in, preventing her from leaving prematurely and feeling quite apologetic as well, intent on at least explaining.

"No, I mean, yes, I'll be there in a bit…I just-" Brenda's eyes fell on Sharon's lips, kiss bruised, lipstick gone. "I just…uh," the blonde glanced back up, finding herself on the receiving end of a very stern look.

You've got to be kidding me, it said but no, Brenda wasn't kidding, at all.

"Um, don't you worry, Detective, I'll be there as soon as possible." She hung up on him and leaned in slowly.

Sharon had her arms crossed in mild protest but she didn't stop Brenda from kissing her. It was a soft one, an unusual one, slow and dripping with sensuality. The brunette uncrossed her arms gradually, sinking into the kiss.

Brenda hummed against the lips. "I have to leave…"

"I know," whispered Sharon.

"I won't," the blonde's breath hitched as Sharon's hands slid over her backside, squeezing. "I won't apologize for my job-"

"I'm not expecting you to."

"-but I do feel bad about last time." Brenda bit her bottom lip as Sharon softly licked and kissed her way to the blonde's neck. "Mmh…I'll make it up to you."

"You will?" Sharon drawled with an audible smirk in her voice.

"I promise…and if you don't stop that, I won't make it to my crime scene." Brenda sunk into the woman, going almost completely slack as Sharon nibbled on that spot. "There's a body…with…mmh-multiple stab wounds…"

"Okay, you win." Sharon drew back with an expression of distaste on her features.

Brenda bit her lip coyly, not having wanted to ruin the mood quite like this. "I'll see you soon," she stepped back, aware of the fact that somebody must have seen them; at least they had only done a little of what Brenda had had in mind only ten minutes ago.

Sharon gave her a weak attempt at a smile as she opened her car door. "Bye, Brenda," she said and halted before she got into her car, not kissing her goodbye after all.

As the blonde walked to her own car, she realized that her Captain, that woman, made her silly in the head.

Clearly she was going soft.

She ought to be more careful, after all, she had vowed only a couple days ago to hide things better from her squad, the least she could do, after what had just happened, was to include the rest of the world as well.

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: **The Closer and its characters are the property of their respective creators and owners, James Duff, Warner Bros. and TNT. No copyright infringement is intended.

capa-06: Yes, here is some Sharon/Brenda goodness, there will be more though and as you will see, Sharon is not always that in control :P

KDTB: The shoe return thing is just like desperation? Yes, it is :) You have to get creative when conducting affairs...well, Brenda's not that creative, is she? And yes, I am determined to have them defile every part of that care...

Cellen8: So glad to hear from you :D Your icon makes me want to watch Copycat (Copykill in Germany) every single time...not that I don't know that movie inside out already, haha. I hope you like the new chapter, and yes, I'm one of those less than 10 pairs women too. Can you imagine, I have the same shoe three times in different colors...

Author's Note: Alrighty, yes, it's taken forever, I'm aware of that and I'm very sorry you guys. I hope you will all enjoy the new chapter, I'm not entirely happy with it but, oh well. Now, on to the story...

**Chapter Twenty-Nine:**

Shenanigans

"Everything alright, Chief?" Provenza asked from right behind her.

Brenda made a face, the guilt almost overwhelming her. "Ooooh…Joel has been by himself at home all night and I have to feed him!"

Provenza walked around her, glancing down at the blood pool on the Persian rug. "Why don't you go home? I'm sure we can wrap this up in another hour or two."

"I couldn't leave y'all here and what if Chief Delk decides to show up again?"

"Then I'm telling him that you're chasing a very important lead," he said, leading her around the pool of blood towards the front door of what could only be described as a mansion. "Go on, Chief. We got this…"

Brenda sucked on her lower lip, looking at Provenza. "Oh, alright but if there's any new development, I wanna know about it!" She hurried down the steps. "And make sure Dr. Morales is doing the autopsy-"

"Special requested him already, Chief."

"And if Detective Gabriel could meet me there at, say, twelve…"

"Consider it done."

"I'd also like to have Detective Sanchez and Lieutenant Flynn pick up the husband from the airport…"

"Chief, Chief!" Provenza interrupted. "Go home!"

Brenda sighed and hurried down the rest of the steps.

"Hello, Joel…" Brenda cooed as she picked him up and smooched his furry head. "Did you miss me?" She carried him into the kitchen and let him sit on the table, something Fritz would never condone but Fritz wasn't there, was he.

Smiling, Brenda put food in Joel's bowl. While he ate she wandered into the bedroom where she had discarded the red dress last night, having had to change after her date with Sharon – under no circumstances could Brenda have shown up at the crime scene in it and so she had raced home.

She put the dress away, out of sight out of mind, and hurried into the bathroom. The scent of the woman still lingered on her skin and her taste was still on Brenda's palate; she had to wash Sharon Raydor off or suffer the consequences for the rest of the day.

As she stepped under the hot spray, Brenda felt an immediate sense of relief wash over her, she relaxed the muscles she hadn't known were tense and closed her eyes tiredly. Being with the police force certainly had its disadvantages and if Brenda didn't love the job as much as she did, she would probably be doing something else.

But she had always had a certain thing for men in uniforms which had, at one time, sweetened the job a little.

Now though she has gotten used to the sight; she had also seen one or two less than favorably sitting uniforms on less than favorably looking men and the only uniform she was currently interested in was Sharon Raydor's. The thought had come to her earlier that morning when it had still been dark outside and a young female officer had come in, clad in her blues.

There had been a startling similarity between Officer O'Neill and Sharon, so much so that Brenda hadn't been able to help but to imagine her Captain Raydor wearing her blues, her bun undone and her luscious hair spilling over her shoulders as she had her way with the woman.

Brenda leaned against the tiles and rubbed her face in mild frustration and in an effort to wake her progressively sleepy brain. She should concentrate on reality and not sink into one fantasy after another.

But for heaven's sakes, did she feel tingly all over!

She wished her Captain was here. She wished they hadn't gotten interrupted last night. She wished she had had a hotel room yesterday or today and not tomorrow because tomorrow seemed an awful long time away when one felt tingly.

Brenda pushed her hand between her thighs and bit down on her lip.

She couldn't do that. She should save it up for Saturday.

Taking a might breath, the blonde drew her hand away, trailing it over her body. Only a couple more hours and they could roll around in bed, press their naked and sweaty bodies against one another, kiss, nibble, touch…

Brenda moaned in frustration and decided she better start shampooing her hair.

She should think about hotels, not that she hadn't already, but she hadn't yet definitely chosen. She should just book them a room at the Redbury, like she had always wanted, and be done with it but all morning her subconscious had tried to dig up the name of the hotel Sharon had said she liked.

The Renaissance Hotel.

That's it, Brenda thought victoriously, washing out her hair, but first she needed more cash.

"A…king size bed, please," Brenda said slowly, avoiding eye contact.

"Of course. Are there any amenities you would like your room to include or-"

"No," the blonde responded immediately, giving the young, blond boy (it would have been too farfetched to call him a man) a tight smile.

"We have rooms that offer a beautiful view of the Hollywood Hills or of the Los Angeles skyline…"

Brenda nibbled on her lip, remembering the beautiful view she had had in the room Sharon had booked them. "How much more is it?"

"Forty dollars."

She wanted to roll her eyes at that yet refrained from doing so. "Alright then…"

"Which one should it be?"

"Which what?"

"Los Angeles or Hollywood?" The young man said exasperatedly.

"Los Angeles."

Brenda opened her purse while he typed away on his computer and pulled out her wallet. She opened it and realized, as she stared at its emptiness, that all the money was still in the M&M's bag. She dropped the wallet back into her purse and began her search anew, blushing for having not thought of sorting this out before she had gotten here.

"I will need your credit card num-"

"I'm gonna pay cash," Brenda said and observed almost simultaneously an irritated and somewhat disgusted expression flit over the boy's face.

"Cash?"

"Yes," she said lightly and put the M&M's bag on the counter with a pointed look. "You accept cash, don't you?" She pulled the bills out.

"We do." He responded with a contritely lifted eyebrow and started typing again, printing out a form. "It will be…this amount," he said discreetly, pointing at the horrendous sum of money Brenda would have to part with in order to have the perfect location for her next extramarital adventure.

"And we will also need a security deposit which you will get back when you check out."

Brenda laid the last bill onto the stack on the counter, her lips pursed. "Security deposit? Are you afraid I'm gonna trash the room?"

"It's hotel policy," he said dryly.

"Fine," Brenda dug into her purse again, "How much is it."

"Two-hundred dollars."

"What?" The blonde felt her jaw go a little slack. "That's ridiculous!" She leaned in a little with a very serious expression on her face. "I am a police officer, I wouldn't trash the room or steal anything!"

"Be that as it may, we will need that deposit or we won't be able to rent that room to you. However," he began helpfully, "If we had your credit card number we could charge it if we found anything to be amiss with the room…"

Brenda sighed heavily and went in search of her wallet again. "But if you charge anything, and I mean anything on that card, I will come back here personally and have you-" She cut herself off, biting her lip and pulled out her wallet.

"Well then, as long as you don't steal or break anything I think we'll be good."

The blonde handed over her card, eyebrow lifted at the little brat but she couldn't really be all that mad at him, courtesy of his being an utter milksop.

"I will also need identification."

Brenda smiled tightly and presented him with her badge.

"That won't do." He grinned, obviously amused by her now.

The blonde bit the corner of her lip in order to prevent her own grin from spreading across her features as she went in search for her ID.

"Thank you," he said and began typing again. "We will have your room ready for you by twelve tomorrow, check in is till four at the latest. Check out at 11 am."

"Alright…" Brenda said glanced about the lobby.

Her phone was ringing incessantly on her bedside table.

It could be work, Brenda thought, it probably was work. It was Taylor, she realized as she picked the device up and tried to look at it in a focused manner yet couldn't keep her eyes from going all sorts of places instead.

"Yes, Commander?" She said and laid back down, closing her eyes. "Who?"

"We picked up the step-son, Chief. We're just processing him now…he looks pretty beat up, and frankly people here are wondering whether he really did it or not."

"Well," Brenda wondered, sitting up slightly alarmed. "What did he say?"

"That's the problem, Chief. Nothing. He ain't talking."

The blonde grumbled and pulled the covers aside. "Any trace on him?"

"Plenty," Taylor said off-handedly and in his usual cool fashion. "He's as guilty as sin and I don't think we actually need a confession from the kid, the evidence will speak for itself."

"Then what did you call me for?" She lamented, pulling the hot pants she was wearing down her legs.

"This is your case, Chief Johnson, so I thought I'd do you a favor by informing you of the arrest of your suspect, that's all." He responded tightly.

"Well, thank you, Commander." Brenda hobbled into her closet, losing the hot pants on her way. "But didn't you just say that people are startin' to wonder about the kid already?"

"He has a fat lip, Chief…some scrapes and, if I may say so myself, he does look like a fragile little thing. Appeals to the…mother instinct, Chief, but as well all know, you're not easily impressed by that."

Brenda wanted to be mad, yet couldn't bring herself to feel anything but a slightly bemused irritation. "I'll be there as soon as I can, Commander…let's see if I can get a word out of the boy…"

Brenda entered the interrogation room in a flurry of black, throwing a stack of files noisily onto the table.

The boy didn't even jump.

She put her hands on her hips, applying a grave expression on her face. She would get a confession out of the kid, that was for sure, and she didn't care how innocent and fragile he looked, to her he was just another perp, another murderer.

She took a deep breath, opened her mouth "-"

"I want a lawyer."

Brenda closed her mouth, her face fell. "Fine." She picked up her files and left the room.

Taylor was already waiting for her, the 'I told you so' clearly visible on his face. "Smart little bastard but don't worry about it, Chief. We'll get him with the DNA."

The blonde glanced at her watch. "I'm gonna wait around for the results…"

"Well," Taylor intervened quickly. "That's gonna take a couple more hours and I'm sure you have better things to do than waiting around for what we already know will be his DNA under the step-mother's fingernails."

"Be that as it may, Commander, this is my case and I should be supervisin' things…"

He shrugged in his usual noncommittal way. "Fine, Chief…be my guest."

Brenda seethed a bit as she made her way toward her office. If it had been Provenza, she would have gone home but Taylor was sneaking around her division constantly, clearly still after her job. To the outside he appeared very helpful, which he, admittedly, sometimes was but Brenda knew he had ulterior motives.

It was sad, considering they had just started getting along, but then again, she didn't really mind.

The only thing she did mind however was the fact that she was stuck at the office on Saturday morning. She would have to be done here by three at the latest if she wanted to still get that room.

Brenda sighed and slumped into her chair.

She wondered what her Captain Raydor was doing?

She lifted her hand, the gesture looking quite mechanical and glanced at her wrist watch.

"I told them to put it first."

It was past one.

"But, Chief, you know how it is." Taylor eyed her with raised eyebrows. "And if you have to be somewhere, I'd be happy to take care of this little problem for you…"

"I don't think so, Commander," Brenda responded contritely, ignoring her watch and stacking files instead.

"Look," he went on, "We both know what's going on here but no one really knows who's going to end up where anyway…" He shrugged. "No sense in staying, Chief, just leave me with Gabriel and the rest of your squad won't be racking up overtime."

Brenda glanced at the watch again. She still had to pack.

"Ooooh, alright." She gathered her things. "But call me as soon as the results are in."

"Will do, Chief." He grinned and even held the door open for her, something he not always did because he knew she expected it.

Brenda hauled her purse over her shoulder and made to leave. "Alright," she said loudly. "Y'all can go home," she announced. "And, Detective Gabriel, if you could wrap this up with Commander Taylor, please?"

He made a face as he watched Flynn pull his jacket from the backrest of his chair. "Sure, Chief…"

"Thank you," Brenda glanced at the watch again. "Thank you so much…" She wasn't entirely sure if she had truly said that, she was deeply in thought and almost out the door anyway.

On her way home Brenda realized that she was speeding but whenever she took her foot off the gas pedal, she could practically hear the ticking of her watch. She also hadn't given much thought to her attire, she couldn't show up in the same thing twice after all!

Not the red dress, not the black dress and certainly none of her flower-prints. She should have more dresses, Brenda thought, standing in her closet. Why didn't she have them, those pretty dresses, she could surely afford it.

Not the brown dress with the turquoise print. Not the azure one with the jacket, Raydor had seen her in it already. The gray one with a jacket and belt?

No.

"Oh, for heaven's sakes!"

Silly Raydor and silly affair!

Why did she have to complicate her life in this matter? It wasn't like she didn't have enough on her plate anyhow! Her parents were coming to town and her mother-

…who was calling, said they had a big surprise for her.

Brenda bit her lower lip and pressed the phone to her ear. "Hello, mama…"

"Hello, dear!"

The blonde smiled.

"I was just calling to tell you that your daddy and I will start our trip a little early!"

"You will? Why's that?"

"We're going to drop by your brother's real quick…" Willie Rae said.

Brenda made a face, her eyebrow slowly lifting. "Why are you really callin', mama?"

"Oh," she cooed innocently. "I don't know what you're talkin' about, Brenda Leigh…" She trailed off, the blonde waited then it came, "The last time Fritzy left for a couple of days you became incredibly bored and he told me you had made a mess of the house…I'm just trying to look out for you, sweetheart."

The blonde rolled her eyes. "The house was not a mess! Fritz is just—he's just too neat, he'd get upset about a crumb on the table!"

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"I am!" Brenda answered immediately.

"Well, it's a good thing I called because you, my dear, don't sound alright to me." Willie Rae sighed. "Do you wanna talk to your daddy? I'm sure that would cheer you up, and him, he's been such a-"

"No, mama, no, not daddy!" Brenda scratched her forehead and glanced in the direction of her closet. "I'm a little busy, mama…"

"You are? With what?"

With what? Brenda scoffed. "I'm meetin' my friend Sharon for drinks." Bad lie. Worst lie she could have possibly thought of. "And I'm runnin' late already!"

"Oh…"

"Yes, um. Say hi to daddy for me, okay?"

"Of course, sweetheart. And you and your…friend have fun!"

"We will…bye, mama."

"Bye, Brenda Leigh!"

The blonde hung up and nibbled on her fingernail.

She would go to hell for this.

Brenda swept into the hotel lobby in a flurry of luscious blond, pastel pinks and whites. She had set her features, held her head up high and carried her little overnight bag with as much dignity as anyone could muster.

For all intends and purposes, Brenda looked like a very determined woman but on the inside kept chastising that gleeful part of herself that could not wait to get its hands on a certain Captain which was also the part she happened to be most afraid of.

Uncontrollable desire was a scary concept, especially when one was as much of a control freak as Brenda Leigh Johnson.

She felt somewhat better though now that she had planned all this, now that she had gotten them the room, it gave her back a certain amount of control, yet Brenda couldn't help but think of her credit card and the fact that the hotel could just charge her for a missing towel that the cleaning lady might have misplaced or some similar tale of incompetence that got her into serious trouble.

"Ms. Johnson."

Brenda broke out of her reverie, her fingers fiddling with her wedding ring as she looked into the boyish eyes of Mr. Smartypants who was apparently capable of remembering every one of his most annoying guests.

He typed away on his computer with a practiced smile on his face. "Your room is ready for you, Ms. Johnson." He handed her a key card. "14th floor, room 459."

That was it?

Brenda looked at the key card…

"And don't worry, Ms. Johnson, I have personally taken care of your credit card situation…" He said mysteriously.

The blonde nibbled on her lip, a small smile threatening to break out on her features. "Thank you…" She picked up her overnight bag and made for the elevators, fighting the grin on her way there. She stared at the key card again as she entered the cabin, pressed the button for the 14th floor and took one short breath after the other.

Brenda realized she felt rather high, rather light headed. It was truly happening then.

Her hands shook and she felt a cold sweat coming on, her heart rate accelerated, the pressure behind her eyes seemed almost unbearable and, twistedly enough, she felt the unmistakable signs of sexual arousal right there between her legs.

_Ding._

The doors opened to a deserted hallway.

Brenda stared at the wall across for a moment, her heart beat not calming but the pressure in her head lessening then stepped out cautiously. She managed to follow the little signs on the walls, made a wrong left turn once but ended up in front of room 459 anyway after rounding a couple extra corners.

She entered the room tentatively, not sure what it would look like, after all, she had relied on Sharon's assessment of the hotel, something Brenda felt quite confused about in fact, but had yet to tackle that bit of self-doubt and uncertainty.

She should have chosen the Redbury but she hadn't, she had chosen this.

The blonde closed the door and stepped into the room tentatively. She could indeed see the Los Angeles skyline yet didn't find it in herself to marvel at it, instead Brenda let her eyes sweep about the room, taking in the king size bed, the quite unnecessary TV, the desk and chair, the door to the bathroom.

Brenda blinked and sat down on the bed upon feeling a slight bout of dizziness coming on. There was utter silence except for the wild beating of her heart.

She was truly having an affair now with hotel rooms, secret meetings, secret phone calls, hook ups in cars and glorious forbidden sex.

The blonde felt panic rise in her chest; how had she ended up like this? Why was she doing this? Why now? Why did she feel like she needed it? What was wrong?

Brenda got up and grabbed her bag, trying to rid her mind of the nagging questions – she couldn't think like this, not now! Things were already in motion…

That reminded her, Brenda started rummaging around in the bag, she had to inform Sharon of the plan.

Squinting at the screen of her cell phone, Brenda began a text message. _Renaissance Hotel_. Then she remembered that there were two and added – _Hollywood_. Room…

What was the room again? Brenda tried to remember but couldn't. She stepped outside, biting her lip in embarrassment.

_Room 459._

There. She stood in the hallway, staring at her phone while her heart beat a mile a minute.

Oh, for heaven's sakes, she lamented inwardly and used all her mental strength to press send.

That hadn't been so hard now, had it? Brenda nodded to herself, satisfied and went back inside. Even though she had managed to shower, pick a dress – the best black work dress Brenda owned – accentuate it with a fine red belt and a red clutch because, after all, she was Captain Raydor's scarlet woman, Brenda had not yet managed to apply make-up or do her hair for that matter.

The blonde had just plugged in the curling iron when her phone began vibrating. She squinted at the screen, it said Cpt. Raydor, Brenda swallowed. What if she called to cancel? What if…

The blonde picked up the phone. "Yes, Captain?"

"Chief, I mean, Brenda…"

Brenda tried to suppress a smirk. "Sharon…"

"I'm almost ready and it's still early so I thought we could have drinks again if-"

"Yes," the blonde said immediately, the smirk morphing into a smile. "Course, why not…"

There was silence for a small moment but enough for Brenda to pick up on it then Sharon went on, "How about dinner?"

Dinner? The blonde bit her lip; she wanted to say yes but really should say no because dinner did not exactly help matters when-

"Okay."

"Okay," Sharon repeated, her voice rising. "Well," she went on in that same intonation. "Do you want to go out or would you rather stay at the hotel?"

"Hotel," Brenda answered immediately and dug into her bag. "Weren't you the one who-"

"Can we try not to argue about every little detail…please?"

The blonde pursed her lips, staring into her make-up bag. "Fine."

"Five-thirty."

"What..?"

"How about five-thirty? I'm assuming there is a bar, so, I will be waiting for you there."

Brenda looked at herself in the mirror, fussing with her hair. "Alright then…I'll see you there."

"Yes."

The blonde waited, blinked once then there was the expected _Click_.

The very first thing Brenda saw of her were her legs.

The best legs in the room which was what made Brenda so sure that they belonged to a certain Captain. Her eyes traveled along the crossed legs, past the black pencil skirt, up the jacket and the patent leather belt, the white, flurry blouse, the downright luscious wavy coif to Sharon's glassless eyes.

The woman hadn't yet seen her.

Brenda swallowed convulsively, her stomach doing flip-flops. She had to admit, her Captain had class, something she accused Brenda of lacking and which the blonde could see the reason for now.

The woman was elegant, sophisticated and sexy and Brenda could not believe that she was indeed staring at her from across the room. The blonde shook her head and marched on, holding her head up high as she approached her Captain.

"You're late," the woman said by way of greeting, not even looking at her but at the cocktail glass that she lifted to her lips.

"Five minutes," Brenda responded and sat on the stool right next to Raydor. "That's not late…it's just not exactly on time."

Sharon took a sip of her drink, white in color yet with a fine violet tinge and turned with a lifted eyebrow.

"Sorry," Brenda offered half-heartedly.

"Good evening," the bartender said, "What can I get you?"

"Whatever she's having," Brenda answered quickly, her eyes darting right back to Sharon while the gentleman made to mix the drink. "You look-I mean-" The blonde cut herself off, a blush spreading over her features. She let out an uncharacteristic giggle then looked at the woman again with a whole different expression on her face. "You look…real nice."

Real nice?

By far not the smoothest line Brenda had ever delivered but at least she had managed to say something. She could see in Sharon's eyes that the woman was about ready to mock her into next week but her gaze gentled while her lips worked around the still unspoken insult. "Thank you," the brunette said and averted her eyes suddenly, taking a sip from her drink.

Perhaps all this hadn't been such a great idea, Brenda realized but nothing really was where her Captain was concerned.

"You look…"

Brenda lifted her head immediately, staring into Sharon's eyes.

"…nice as well."

The blonde smiled coyly. "Thank you…" Then she leaned in, caught one last glimpse of a wide-eyed Captain and proceeded to kiss the very corner of said Captain's mouth. Brenda lingered, her hand resting on that more than perfect knee then she drew back just a little, frozen in stunned silence, in disbelieve of her actions.

Sharon narrowed her eyes at her and let out a small puff of air. "Your behavior," she started slowly, her voice dangerously low and gravelly, "is completely unacceptable."

Brenda could only agree however admitting that was out of the question.

She should lean back, take her hand off the woman's perfect knee and ask herself why her heart beat doubled and she started trembling at the mere idea of somebody looking at them and realizing that they were not just two women in a bar but two women in a bar who happened to have an affair.

Brenda nibbled on her lower lip; she was being foolish and selfish and she should be more careful. Carelessness only got you into trouble and-

Sharon kissed her. Brenda's eyes closed as soon as their lips touched, pressed together at first then sliding effortlessly, smoothly, against one another in a perfect, moist, warm and tingles-inducing kiss. Brenda sighed gently as she sunk into the woman, her whole body on the verge of just going slack and her undeniable desire for her Captain blending out the world around her.

Sharon leaned back then, not far but far enough to end the kiss, and blinked at her in stunned silence.

"How very irresponsible of you, Cap'n Raydor," Brenda drawled and sat up straight, knowing that if she didn't, they may very well end up kissing and groping their way back to the room in five minutes or less.

Her Captain said nothing in response, she merely reached for her glass and took a long sip, a flush creeping over her, Brenda could see then the bartender placed her drink on the bar top. "There you go," he said with a smile that neither of the two women really saw because their eyes were glued to each other in silent communication.

"May I ask," he went on, which finally got Brenda's attention. "How long have you been married?"

As if on cue, the blonde's wedding band and engagement ring clinked against her cocktail glass. She heard Sharon take a breath, and she knew what the woman was about to say, which was why the blonde reached over, grasped the brunette's knee and squeezed.

"Two years and countin'!"

He grinned at her, it wasn't an annoying grin but a rather pleased one. "We got there right in time as well…" He said and Brenda at first didn't know what he was talking about, add to that the fact that Sharon was digging her fingernails into the back of her hand but then it clicked.

"Good for you…" She smiled back at him then threw a look at her Captain who was pulling a face. The blonde lifted her glass, raising an eyebrow. "Cheers, _honey_."

Raydor blinked, picked up her own glass and lifted an eyebrow. "Cheers…" She said dangerously and took a sip.

"If you need anything, you know where to find me," the bartender nodded his goodbye and tended to another guest.

Sharon put her drink down, lips pursed. "Married..?" She asked in a low voice.

"What would you have said?" Brenda asked tightly. "So…" She picked up the menu. "You said somethin' about dinner."

"I did," Raydor drawled, "but I'm starting to regret that, seeing as the only edible meal on the menu seems to be a Caesar's Salad."

"Oh, don't be like that," Brenda lamented and glanced over the different meals and snacks available.

Caesar's Salad it was then.

But seeing as her Captain's mood wouldn't improve anytime soon, she really ought to have a big, _big_ glass of Merlot with that.

Brenda held onto the doorframe with all her might as she felt Sharon nosing her way to her neck, her warm breath ghosting over the blonde's skin, eliciting goose bumps and butterflies and a pulsing sensation between Brenda's legs.

"Captain," she said breathily as Sharon kissed and nibbled. "Captain…you have to stop or else…"

"Or else what?" The brunette asked with her velvety voice.

Brenda pried her eyes open and fiddled with the key card while Sharon's hands began wandering. The blonde realized that her own hands were shaking and she found it incredibly difficult to even come close to opening that door.

"Captain!" She said sharply, the key card sliding into the slot which was then all that mattered. The door swung open and Brenda pulled the woman inside, pushing her up again the nearest wall while the door swung shut again quietly.

Brenda pressed her lips to Sharon's, pawing at the woman who was digging her fingertips into her back already, something she always did when terribly aroused and uncaring of any eventual bruises. The blonde fumbled with the belt, her hands trying to make quick work of it in the hopes of seeing the woman naked immediately but she wouldn't be Brenda if fumbling didn't entail quite the amount of haplessness.

The patent leather belt gave way eventually, once Brenda's lipstick was almost gone and she had left a stain on her Captain's white blouse. The jacket, to the blonde's relief, had only two buttons, and fairly big ones as well, so she should be able to get them off in no time, she thought, hoping to get her Captain into bed, preferably naked, as soon as possible.

Sharon moaned when the first button was opened, yet didn't seem to have intended to do so and Brenda figured, quite guiltily, that she would be just as responsive and as easily aroused if it had been her up against that car or her being left high and dry that one time in front of the hotel.

Then the woman maneuvered her backwards, toward the bed, but Brenda would have none of that – after all, she had promised to make it up, to pay her back, this was her show and she knew that a quick fix, which was what her Captain intended judging by the amount of groping and pushing and panting against her lips, wouldn't do at all.

"Not so fast, Captain," she said, working on the second button as they stopped short of the bed. "You can't always go first," Brenda went on, second button undone and leading the woman away again.

"But I have to go first," Sharon responded, quite unlike herself, her fingertips digging into Brenda's hips then her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "I don't particularly enjoy this game you're trying to play."

The blonde sucked her lower lip in, suppressing a smirk as her hands wandered over her Captain's backside quite provocatively. If anything, Brenda wanted to devour the woman but knew she could not, at least not that soon, instead she let her lips move against the skin of Sharon's neck and jaw as she spoke, "My, Cap'n Raydor, you just can't follow even the simplest of orders, can you?"

Sharon glared.

"I reckon we better have a serious talk about that…" Brenda let her hands wander again, under the jacket. "Sit over there, Captain." She pushed the jacket past Sharon's shoulders and down her arms as she nodded at the desk behind the woman.

Sharon glanced back then narrowed her eyes as the jacket fell to the floor, defiant yet aroused by it, Brenda could see it clear as day but only because she had learned to read the woman and had become an expert in Raydor-speak.

"Sit." Brenda repeated and saw the woman's eyes widen almost imperceptibly. "That's an order, Captain."

The brunette swallowed, pursed her lips, her eyes darting about the room, and sat. She looked quite indignant as she did so, a mild and not entirely unwelcome sense of humiliation prompting her to cross her legs defensively.

Brenda bit her lip as she suddenly trembled at the sight of her Captain's contrite expression and leaned in, her hands grasping the armrests or the chair which she then proceeded to turn in the right position.

She knew, even though she wasn't looking, that her Captain was getting an eyeful of her cleavage and that Sharon might not even try to fight her natural response to the sight, which was to stare down the blonde's dress. Brenda didn't mind at all, in fact, she breathed in deeply, aroused by the very notion of being ogled by a woman of Raydor's class and self-control.

Then she stood up deliberately and slid onto the desk, crossing her own legs, smirking. "Well, then, Captain…" She said and stared down at the woman.

A moment came and went, neither looking away then the seconds ticked by until, finally, one of them broke.

"What is this? The superior officer seducing the subordinate?" Sharon wondered evenly.

Brenda slowly lifted an eyebrow.

"…oooh."

"Yes, oh, Cap'n Raydor." Brenda bobbed her foot then lifted it slightly, snooty expression firmly in place. "Mind takin' that off?"

Sharon swallowed and glanced at the high heel. She wanted to say 'no', she wanted to say something snarky or downright mean, Brenda could see it on her face, but instead the woman reached up, touching the shoe with her mere fingertips and pulled the high heel off Brenda's foot with the practiced ease of a woman who wore them more often than was healthy.

Then she let it drop to the floor unceremoniously.

"That was completely unnecessary," Brenda complained, eying her shoe but didn't receive an answer. "You deserve a serious talkin'-to, Captain."

Brenda stared at the woman for a long moment, her gaze purposefully intense.

She didn't feel intimidated in the woman's presence anymore. She may feel inadequate sometimes but there was no more shame in that. There was no reason to feel her authority threatened, especially not here, especially not when they were this close and equally exposed.

She saw it then, in Sharon's eyes, that the woman's idea of where this was going differed from hers. Perhaps that was why she had been this defiant or perhaps Brenda would only make it worse once she had clarified things.

The woman was ready to pleasure her but, quite frankly, not in the damn mood to cater to Brenda's every whim any longer.

"Now don't you get any ideas," Brenda said and slid slowly off the desk under Sharon's watchful gaze.

She leaned forward, one of her hands settling gently on the woman's knee. Sharon recorded every single move she made, every little gesture was observed by her and Brenda felt strangely powerful at that moment, as she slowly sunk to her knees.

"No, no, no," Sharon said almost immediately, grasping her upper arm.

The blonde lifted an eyebrow and leaned up, her fingertips on the woman's lips, silencing her. She drew them away, slowly, smearing some of the lipstick. Brenda swallowed heavily, her eyes hooded as she leaned in further, finding Sharon on a whole new level of sexy, a level Brenda had not dared to climb up to prior to that very moment, not even having been aware of its existence.

Sharon watched her, her gaze sharp and observant even though her eyes had taken on a bedroom-y quality.

She kissed the woman, just touching her lips with her own, pressing them together slowly.

Sharon hummed as they kissed languidly, she liked it that way yet, despite knowing that, Brenda tended to kiss the woman hard, deep and with an all-consuming hunger.

Not tonight, she vowed. She would give Sharon Raydor what she wanted, even though she might not be aware of all of her desires yet. She would give her Captain what she needed, just this once, and then see what happens. What would the woman do when confronted with the possible satisfaction of her needs?

Brenda allowed their tongues to touch gently, caressing the woman's cheek.

What would she do? What would a woman who had practiced self-denial for years do?

The blonde could barely contain her excitement at the prospect of unraveling her Captain, of taking away some of that perceived superiority. The mask would fall, Brenda was certain of it.

Slowly she caressed that perfect knee; the skin felt as soft as ever, silky and warm and even though Brenda wanted to linger, she trailed her hand downwards, along the curve of Sharon's calf, to her ankle until finally, her fingers smoothed themselves along the contours of the delicate patent leather shoe.

Brenda grasped it and slid it effortlessly off Sharon's heel.

The woman pulled back, having been distracted masterfully by the soft and languid kisses. She glanced down as Brenda pulled the shoe from her foot then her eyes darted back, hooded, desire shining in them as clear as day.

The blonde detected the slight uncertainty, as if the woman already knew what was in store for her but Sharon did nothing, if anything she seemed to take the situation as it was, at least for now. Then the brunette captured Brenda's lips with her own, humming and sinking into the kiss like Brenda sunk into a chocolate cake and slowly uncrossed her legs.

The blonde reached down, her eagerness getting the better of her for a moment and pulled the other shoe from Sharon's foot. She had the softest skin, that woman, and the sexiest legs Brenda had ever laid eyes on – not that she had laid eyes on many, consciously, but it was safe to say that she had taken to admire her Captain's and her Captain's alone.

Other women just didn't compare.

Brenda ended the kiss, rudely pulling away and noting, with satisfaction, that Sharon followed her for a moment, eager to seek out her lips again.

"Captain," the blonde said urgently, her hand slowly trailing up and down the woman's calf. "What are we ever gonna do about those legs…" She let her fingertips slide under the soft material of the skirt and watched the woman swallow and her fingertips dig into the armrests of the chair, the only indication that she was affected by what was happening.

Brenda knew that the woman more than enjoyed the sight of her on her knees, perhaps she was also afraid of it, but Brenda was absolutely certain that, once she had reached the silken panties that would undoubtedly match a lacy bra underneath that blouse, she would feel a warmth there, a wetness, sufficient evidence for the woman's arousal.

The skirt started rolling up but Brenda couldn't appreciate the creamy white skin of Sharon's thighs because her gaze was captured by the woman's who looked at her with an intensity that was almost palpable. Brenda shuddered, her hand venturing forth even though the dress wouldn't budge any further then she felt it.

The blonde swallowed, her hand stilled and she took a moment to somewhat compose herself. "Oh, my…" She wanted to say more but her brain would not come up with anything and her voice refused to work beyond those words.

Sharon's eyes wandered, her lips quirked and pursed then, to break Brenda out of her reverie, she said, "Panty lines."

The blonde sucked her lower lip in and breathed out slowly through her nose, her fingertips moving against the naked skin beneath the skirt. Brenda waited, expecting a reaction of some sort but there seemed to be nothing the woman felt the need to divulge.

However there was a very faint tinge to her cheeks.

Brenda nibbled on her lower lip, pulling her hand out slowly and deliberately until it settled on Sharon's perfect knee. The blonde rubbed her thumb in circles as she sat back and stared up at the woman, adopting her most innocent expression then caressed the woman's calves, her fingertips sneaking to the back of her knees.

Brenda pulled a little and Sharon slid forward in her chair, the skirt riding up so high that the blonde could actually glimpse the brunette's nether regions. The scent of the woman immediately filled her nostrils, a scent she had come to know very well and intimately. It was warm and exotic and tangy and rich, something Brenda wished she could just sink into.

Her eyes darted down of their own volition, drinking in the creamy white thighs, that she couldn't help but caress with both hands, and, of course, the shadows of neatly trimmed and partially shaved curls. Brenda leaned in and kissed that wide-eyed look right off the woman's face while feeling around for the zipper, always reminding herself that she had to take things slow, that she couldn't rip the skirt right off the woman and then have her way with her.

Surely, Sharon could see the appeal of that but Brenda doubted she would much appreciate the end result.

Brenda pulled the zipper down slowly, fully planning on pulling the skirt down over the woman's hips and off, to be discarded of somewhere in the room but Sharon grasped her wrist before she could do so.

Surely, Brenda thought, the woman couldn't possibly start being shy after everything they had done, it had to be something else. She looked up but Sharon would not look at her.

The woman breathed in and out deeply, quickly, her hand retreating and settling back onto the armrest of the chair. Brenda let her hands trail up and down her Captain's thighs, under the skirt, caressing the soft skin as she waited, demanding silently that the woman comply with her.

"I-" Sharon's lips pursed as she searched for the right words. "I-I'm-"

It wouldn't get better than that, Brenda realized and sat up, capturing her Captain's mouth. Sharon made a surprised little noise as their lips connected then sunk into the kiss, offering complete control over it and just taking it, taking every soft yet deep and sensual touch Brenda would give.

The blonde hummed in pleasure, feeling the warmth of her own arousal pulsating between her legs, dampening her underwear. She wished she could reach down, she seriously contemplated it but resisted with all her might.

She was being selfish, having this was selfish, so the least she could do was to give the woman pleasure without being out for her own for a change.

That was it, Brenda thought, and let Sharon feel her desire for her, pouring it all in the kiss while the blonde's fingertips traveled up her thighs again, under the skirt further and further. Sharon lifted herself up a little, surrendering to what was happening, and let Brenda push the skirt up over her hips, exposing herself and her apparent arousal, the likely source of her sudden embarrassment.

It was strangely sexy to see her Captain like this – weak, vulnerable yet unable to admit defeat – and Brenda couldn't help but to greedily exploit Sharon's state by slowly trailing her hand between the slightly parted thighs and touch the woman gently, carefully, maddeningly softly.

Sharon's breath hitched as Brenda caressed her, the blonde's gaze fixed on the brunette, unable to tear her eyes away and risk missing even the smallest thing.

Captain Sharon Raydor, Brenda realized, was magnificent.

The blonde swallowed heavily and trailed her left hand down the woman's leg, grasping it firmly, her lips kissing along Sharon's perfect, perfect knee to the inside of her thigh, no longer able to help it, and hooked the luscious, creamy white leg over the armrest.

The brunette stared at her, trembling somewhat then her eyes darted away as Brenda looked up.

There could be no more delays now, the blonde thought, she wouldn't survive it, she would ravish the woman if she were asked to hold out only five more minutes.

Brenda sat back down and lowered her head, not making a show of it, not teasing, not hinting, not playing around and she hoped Sharon at least appreciated it. She hadn't done this yet, Brenda thought briefly as her sense of smell was overpowered by the woman's warm scent. She hadn't yet done this with her Captain but she had tasted her on her fingers as she had licked them afterwards.

But not this, she thought as her tongue connected with the woman's warm and wet folds, not this.

Sharon's breath hitched and Brenda felt her tremble which aroused her in more ways than she could count. Her tongue slipped past the outer lips into a warmth that felt like liquid heat, the silky softest thing Brenda had ever felt. She whimpered at the taste, at the texture, committing her entire being to this.

The blonde flattened her tongue, sunk into the woman, trembling herself while she did so and hummed in pleasure and desire and want for her Captain. She heard Sharon breathe faster, yet not heavily, she had herself under control like that, and found it oddly erotic that the woman would restrain herself even now.

Brenda wouldn't have any of it, that much was clear, and who cared about slow anyway? She certainly didn't, not after having a taste of this.

She leaned in, her lips pressed tightly against the woman, the first traces of wetness staining her inner thigh as she felt that hard, little nub against her tongue. If she held still she could feel it pulsate and throb but Brenda hardly had the patience for it.

The blonde licked, up and down, her hands pushing the woman's legs apart, caressing the soft skin on Sharon's inner thigh. Her Captain trembled, little noises making it past her lips without her consent, her muscles taught in anticipation while she tried to keep it all under control somehow.

Brenda realized in that instance that Sharon wasn't the only one who just adored oral sex. But, of course, she would never call it that…oral sex – to Brenda it felt more like eating candy.

And she could eat a lot of that.

In fact, she could just eat her Captain up, that was how much she liked it.

Brenda was suddenly overcome by her own carnal desire for the woman and leaned in purposefully, greedily seeking more contact, and bent her Captain to her will. It was then, with her leg over Brenda's shoulder that Sharon said the first coherent thing since the blonde had sunk to her knees

"Oooh, Brenda," she murmured, her head thudding against the backrest of the chair, her eyes closing.

The blonde tore her lips away almost violently, she opened her mouth then licked her lips, unable to resist. For a moment Brenda felt her insides turn hot and melt, felt a tingle, an overwhelming sensation she always felt when taking her first bite out of a Ding Dong. She shivered then glanced up through thick eyelashes.

"That's Chief Johnson…Captain."

Sharon had opened her eyes and looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, incredulous expression on her face. Brenda saw her swallow, her eyes narrow almost imperceptibly then dart away while her lips formed a pout.

"Okay…" She said eventually, rolling her eyes. "Chief Johnson."

Brenda smirked up at her and found, to her surprise, amusement shining in Sharon's eyes then the brunette smirked down at her as well.

The blonde lowered her head and heard a low moan before she had even touched the woman.

Brenda pressed her lips to the pliant flesh, her mouth warm, open and welcoming. Her Captain's skin was the softest she had ever felt and though her mouth was hot, she was certain of the fact that her Captain was hotter and moister and silkier. Brenda hummed in delight and pleasure and relaxed, feeling her worries fade away as she sucked the woman into her mouth.

She kissed her, almost, overcome by affection or something resembling it as her tongue swept over Sharon's clit, caressing it, devouring it, loving it. Brenda was entranced and whimpered and moaned at the taste, at the feel, at everything she could get her lips on.

Her Captain made little noises, sounds that felt like piercing stabs of desire which spurred Brenda on. She was on the verge of losing it, there, on her knees and she knew it, wondering if she should risk it, give in and just do it despite it being selfish and a potential turn off for the other woman.

Although, Brenda thought, if the things they said about the Wicked Witch were true, her Captain may very well end up liking it, in fact, she imagined, succumbing to her wishful thinking, her Captain might even want it.

With a last moan, Brenda sucked, hard, her lips cushioning the little nub that she pressed her tongue against, tasting as much of the woman as she could in the process, greedily swallowing and sucking and stroking.

She heard Sharon take a strangled, surprised breath, her hand shooting down, fisting Brenda's blonde locks and pulling in a desperate attempt to lessen the intensity of Brenda's ministrations. What lessened however, as the moments went by, was Sharon's resistance to the rough treatment, the brunette even slouched further into the chair the longer it went on and then she canted her hips, offering herself up and surrendering to Brenda's whim.

The blonde trembled, the wetness between her legs increasing, a throbbing, the physical manifestation of her desire, making her entire body shake with every beat of her heart. Brenda felt her blood soar, was deafened by it, her downright greed for the woman taking over as she pushed her legs further and further apart.

"Oh," Sharon whimpered. "Oh...yes, Chief."

She tried, Brenda had to give her that and decided to reward her Captain a little, lessening her aggressive approach. The woman adjusted almost immediately, her hips bucking and moving against Brenda's mouth, allowing her control over the intensity of her own pleasure.

"Oh, yes!"

The blonde smirked inwardly, driven to bring the woman to orgasm, to claim her release. Her Captain moved faster, fingers firmly woven into Brenda's hair, grinding her clit against the blonde's lips and tongue while her other hand grabbed the backrest and held onto it.

It went on, hips moving, wetness increasing, little moans and whimpers and all.

Brenda couldn't take it anymore, feeling somewhat shameful at that, after all, it was her Captain who had to endure it all but the blonde couldn't help wanting it, she downright ached to feel Sharon come.

Brenda made up her mind and hummed, flattening her tongue again which elicited a small, strangled cry from the woman.

Then she felt something against her lips, a pulsing and Sharon's fingers tightening their hold on her instantaneously. She expected a cry, a loud moan, some sort of noise but there came none. There was almost silence, there was not even breathing but a mere creaking of the leather on the armrest that Sharon was currently clutching.

Then there was a whimper, a keen noise and then her Captain was coming against her lips and in her mouth.

The woman panted through her release, the sounds she made sounding broken, as if it already hurt, as if she couldn't bear the intensity of her pleasure.

She clutched the blonde's hair one last time, one whimper after the other leaving her lips and then she calmed, hummed and let go.

The blonde waited for a moment until she felt Sharon pat her on the head.

Brenda wanted to roll her eyes yet couldn't help but let her anger dissipate at the soft caresses the woman bestowed on her then, stroking her hair back into place as she panted heavily.

Brenda was in awe, plain and simple. She felt the adrenaline in her bloodstream, roaring, deafening her. She licked, not knowing why, down to the woman's entrance, licked at the wetness and hummed in delight. She caressed her trembling thighs with fingertips and kisses, letting her breath ghost over the wet skin.

Brenda bit her bottom lip as she sat back a little, her Captain's thigh slipping off her shoulder. She kissed the perfect knee, leaned her head against it as she tried to catch her own breath and blinked at the sudden emotion welling up in her.

The blonde blinked and sat back, looking at what she had done, at what she had undone and blushed unexpectedly, not having been prepared for the sight of her Captain, eyes closed, legs apart, one hooked still over the armrest and her sex on display, puffy, red and glistening.

Oh, for heaven's sakes, Brenda thought and almost whimpered.

She sat up, pulling the chair closer, prompting the woman's eyes to open, her gaze sleepy and alluring and sexy all at once. Brenda sucked her lower lip in then leaned in and kissed her Captain, her Sharon, tongue and all, letting the woman taste herself.

While she was kissing her, slowly, sloppily and with a certain sexiness to it, Brenda realized that she had forgotten almost completely about her own desires.

Slowly she made it onto her feet, breaking the kiss only at the last possible moment. Their lips separated noisily and Sharon was left looking up at her through hooded eyes.

"My," Brenda said breathily for lack of anything else to say and sucked her lower lip in again, suddenly somewhat embarrassed, and leaned coyly against the desk while Sharon arranged herself somewhat more presentably in her seat.

They didn't look at one another for what felt like a small eternity then Sharon's lips parted. "Chief," she said and shook her head. "Brenda," she corrected herself then ran out of things to say.

Another moment went by, their gazes met and suddenly, without really meaning to, Brenda felt a grin overtake her features.

Sharon smirked also, a small laugh escaping her lips.

"Now that was somethin' else," the blonde commented, feeling her lips curl.

"It was," Sharon supplied helpfully and sighed. "Uh...I was thinking that if-I mean, uh..."

Brenda nodded coyly and before she knew what was happening, her Captain had captured her lips in an urgent kiss, her tongue invading her mouth, her naked thighs pressed against Brenda and Brenda pressed up against the desk.

It was then that she felt the wetness between her legs tickle down the inside of her thigh and Sharon's hand immediately upon it.

It would be so easy to let her Captain reward her for the pleasure she had just received but Brenda had other plans, at least she thought so.

She reached down before Sharon could go any further, past the point of no return which seemed almost palpably close.

"No, no," Brenda said breathily against the woman's lips. "That's not how we do things…"

"And how, pray tell, do we do things?" Sharon husked.

"Why, Captain Raydor, we do things in bed of course…"

~_TBC_~

_Thanks for reading!_


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter Thirty:**

Sharing

"What are you doin'?" Brenda asked, one knee on the bed while Sharon stood behind her, pressing down on her shoulder blade.

"This is how I do things," she responded, leaning down and letting her breath ghost over Brenda's ear. "Chief Johnson…"

The blonde blinked and stared at the head of the bed. She couldn't really think about this and even though she was somewhat appalled by the idea, she couldn't help but want it.

Brenda bit her lower lip, still not thinking, and leaned forward, putting her hands on the bed.

"Very good," she heard Sharon say in such an off-handed manner that it almost annoyed her.

Very good? We'll see about that, Brenda thought and found herself flat on her stomach.

A moment went by then she felt Sharon's weight on the mattress.

Alright, Brenda thought and squeezed her eyes shut, a flush creeping over her features; alright, she would let this happen, like this, how her Captain wanted it.

It was about paying her back, she had to keep that in mind, Brenda repeated in her head and squeezed her eyes shut as her whole body was overtaken by a tingly, almost anticipatory sensation. The hairs on the back of her neck raised as she felt Sharon's breath ghost over her naked shoulders.

The blonde's muscles tensed, her eyes opened as she waited and closed again as the brunette's lips connected with her skin. Brenda sighed, almost moaned, as her body relaxed into the deceptively sweet caress and fingernails scraped softly over the skin of her exposed back.

Brenda waited in poised anticipation and, patience not being her strongest suit, she tried to catch a glimpse of her Captain. She could feel the heat of her body, her proximity, her closeness and then her body curving and smoothing itself along Brenda's own. A hand gripped hers, another came to rest against her side and then there was a startling pressure pushing her down that left her gasping for air for a brief moment.

The blonde squeezed her eyes shut as the Captain's nails tickled her, she wouldn't laugh or, worse, giggle! No. She would not and she did not. Brenda swallowed almost convulsively, irrationally proud of her self-control before that thought completely dissolved under the alluringly soft caress of Sharon Raydor's touch on her behind.

Brenda opened her eyes and glanced over her shoulder, tried to as her Captain's fingertips dug into her right cheek before moving along a path the blonde had hoped they would take.

Right between her legs, Brenda held her breath, of course, she thought and caught a glimpse of her Captain, of the look of sheer and utter concentration, of cold calculation and fascination all at once, and then, if possible, Brenda felt the excitement well up within her tenfold.

Their eyes connected and, for the brief moment that they did, Brenda felt absolutely certain that she would make this good for her Captain and not because she had to – in fact, she thought as her eyes closed, in fact she felt absolutely certain that her Captain would make it good for the both of them.

She waited for the fingertip to penetrate her, for that slender finger to fill her and gasped as Sharon pushed two inside. A silent cry parted her lips as the brunette reached as deeply inside her as possible, breathing harshly as she did so.

"Oh," Brenda keened, "Oh, Captain…" She meant it, the blonde realized, she meant it, really, and it wasn't just a game.

The Captain's fingers stilled. It felt odd yet soothing, warm, hot, and as the moment dragged on, startlingly arousing. The blonde heard her own heartbeat, imagined that her Captain could too, that the woman could feel her pulse against the tips of her fingers.

It was excruciating.

Brenda opened her eyes. "Wh-"

"Shhh…"

Sharon was close, closer than the blonde would have expected.

She swallowed.

Stilled.

Moved her hips.

Brenda scolded herself, shutting her eyes as she tried to keep still again – bad, bad, bad! The blonde buried her face in the covers.

_Oh, for heaven's sakes!_

Brenda heard her heart beat and moved her hips again, feeling the slender fingers slide into her.

She keened and she didn't care that she meant it, that she wasn't embarrassed, "Oh, Captain…Cap'n…"

She felt the brunette's weight on her, she was being held down – not that Brenda required holding down – and her Captain grasp one of her hands, entwining their fingers.

"Ah!" The blonde gasped at the rough but not entirely unwelcome intrusion of Sharon Raydor's fingers; she merely breathed, in and out, her eyes squeezed shut tightly while she waited for whatever else her Captain might decide to do to her.

"Turn over," the brunette whispered into her ear suddenly and Brenda wondered how to accomplish that seeing as she was trapped…more or less. "Now," Sharon added then, her voice rough, barely controlled desire lurking in the background.

The blonde felt the weight atop her shift gradually until she had room to push herself up somewhat and even though she had protested somewhat against the position Raydor had put her in moments ago, she was now reluctant to leave it.

She felt Sharon's hand on the small of her back, her palm massaging then stilling and then, Brenda reached for the headboard, expecting it, waiting for it, her Captain moved her fingers again, reaching deeper than before, moaning gently.

The blonde's knuckles turned white as she held on, not from pain or pleasure but from lack thereof. The anticipation was killing her, the want she felt in the pit of her stomach was driving her to the brink of insanity. She squeezed her eyes shut again, cataloging every sensation, trying to feel it tenfold but couldn't.

"Captain," Brenda whispered and moved in sync with the woman, as undignified as she believed the position she was in to be.

"Chief," Sharon whispered back urgently, wrapping an arm around Brenda midsection, pulling her up onto her knees.

"Yes," the blonde leaned back, certain that her Captain was there, right behind her. "Yes…" She couldn't help it, she reached back and buried her hand in the brunette's mane, daring her to kiss the exposed neck.

Brenda bit her lip as she felt Sharon's moist, warm kiss upon her skin, the sensation accompanied by a glimmer of guilt at pushing the woman once again to go along with her even though this time, Brenda had vowed, it would be about the Captain.

Screw that, she thought and reached for Sharon's wrist, pulling her fingers out and bringing the woman's hand around for better access.

She was just being practical, Brenda thought, guiding her Captain's hand back between her legs where the ache was building and pushed the woman's fingers back inside. The blonde almost collapse at the sensation yet wanted more, much more, wanted it hard and fast, embarrassingly so, and it almost made her blush in what way she wanted to be had by her Captain.

How did it come to this, she wondered and spread her legs a little further, pushing the fingers further and further and-

"On your back."

Sharon pulled away and Brenda made a sound in the back of her throat that she had never heard herself make before. She bit her lip as she did as she was told and laid back, her eyes screwed shut in torturous anticipation.

"Look at me," the Captain demanded as she settled down between the blonde's spread legs.

Brenda opened her eyes and stared up at the woman with a frightening intensity, meeting the first thrust of her Captain's fingers. It was rough and hard, not graceful at all as she clawed at the woman's back. She left marks, Brenda knew it and was actually pleased to leave something behind her Captain could remember this night by.

She stared up, her vision focusing on the here and now again, she stared into Sharon's eyes as she felt another deep, unapologetic thrust. She stared, she wouldn't lose this battle of wills, she wouldn't.

Sharon pried Brenda's hand away then and brought it back onto the mattress, entwining their fingers again.

She wouldn't, the blonde vowed again, she wouldn't.

Her mind went blank as she felt it coming.

Brenda squeezed the hand in hers, the other holding onto her Captain.

Her Captain.

The blonde shook.

She was almost there, almost, almost, almost…

Her Captain pushed her fingers inside and Brenda felt them deep, felt the palm of her hand against her clit, applying pressure, slowly killing her.

She closed her eyes.

To hell with it.

"Look at me."

Open again.

No.

Yes.

Her Captain was amazing. Her Captain was making her lose what was left of her mind. Her Captain was about to make her come.

Brenda stopped breathing, waiting for it, waiting, hovering. She spread her legs just that bit more. In and out – there, yes, there. "Oh, Captain!"

There.

She stared up into the woman's eyes, she let her see, allowed her that glimpse, just this once. "Oh, Cap'n Raydor, yes, oh, yes, yes…Sharon!"

She squeezed the woman's hand, dug her fingernails into her back, wrapped her legs around her hips, arched her back and came with a loud wail of intense, mind-numbing pleasure.

* * *

"Oh…" Brenda whispered breathily. "…that feels wonnerful."

"Have you ever…have you ever…"

"No," Brenda said immediately, her gaze steely. "I've never…"

Sharon opened her eyes slowly and with great effort, sighing as she met Brenda's gaze. The blonde hovered over her, her hair framing her face as her eyes darted over her Captain's features, trying to memorize everything.

"I…" The brunette stopped as her voice shook. "I dislike being stared at," Sharon went on in a somewhat controlled manner.

Brenda tilted her head, sucked her lower lip in and moved the tips of her fingers lower, letting them glide over the silkiest of textures she had ever felt in her whole life. "…so pretty," she responded dazedly.

Sharon blinked, once.

"Your lips…I wanna kiss 'em all the time." Brenda's gaze was so intense it almost caressed the lips in question. "Sometimes just to get you to shut up…"

"Hmm," Sharon hummed, a grin spreading over her features. "Good luck with-oh!"

The blonde pushed her fingers deeply inside, observing in rapt fascination as her Captain's face contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"Good luck with what?" Brenda grinned and lowered her lips to Sharon's.

Lying beside the woman, propped up on an elbow and hovering over her, one leg thrown over Sharon's thigh and her hand between her parted legs concealed by the crisp, white sheet, Brenda felt intoxicated by Sharon Raydor, a woman she couldn't stand to be around for a variety of reasons, yet a woman she couldn't seem to get enough of at the same time.

Over was the struggle for dominance, gone were Brenda's insecurities that had always prompted the behavior; things were different now.

Brenda had always thought of sex without love as something inferior, as something that was less than what she had with Fritz for example. He was one of the rare guys who actually took care of her needs, he was attentive – gentle, rough, assertive, whatever she required.

Their love for each other transferred into the bedroom, it was a natural extension of their feelings for one another and it enhanced the experience in many ways that Brenda hadn't known before.

With Sharon everything was different.

It wasn't about love. It was about sex and satisfaction and every greedy touch, every caress, every look, kiss, breath, moan and sigh. And as much as Brenda had wanted to deny it at first, the experience was truly breathtaking.

It was like sugar, like eating chocolate without the guilt and now that Brenda had gotten a taste of it, she wanted to eat a whole lot more of it.

She cupped Sharon gently and covered the heat, the wetness with the palm of her hand. Brenda watched in rapt fascination the reactions she elicited in the brunette. The beauty of the very simplicity overwhelmed Brenda and she could only stare as her Captain's eyes closed and her lips formed a silent 'oh'.

Studying Sharon's features, Brenda wondered if she ever thought about her that way. Maybe she wasn't really all that physically attracted to the blonde…maybe she didn't even like blondes?

"D'you like my lips?" She went straight for the thing she felt most self-conscious about. "Some people say they're…luscious." Brenda wondered with a straight face, her hand completely still between Sharon's legs, making it clear that she was expecting a certain answer. After a moment, Sharon's lips parted and Brenda waited with baited breath.

"I can't stand them," she replied evenly.

Brenda's face fell as she stared at the woman, stunned but then she saw that look, she knew it by heart, that superior barely-there smirk Sharon did so well.

_Oh, that woman…_

She moved her hand very slowly, her finger moving in and out slightly.

"…I can't stand the way you walk either or the decidedly unnatural tone of your voice," Sharon went on suddenly, her gaze piercing, wanting, before her eyes closed again. "Honestly," she added. "And-and your legs," her voice shook, "I really hate those-oh, hmmm…" Sharon purred and grasped Brenda's arm but didn't try to control her movements, she merely squeezed whenever Brenda did something particularly right.

"What else?" The blonde prompted, her own breathing growing heavy.

"Your…your ass."

"What about it?" Brenda whispered into her ear, having never heard the woman utter that word before.

"I hate that I-that-that," it rushed out of Sharon then she stopped and her eyes opened suddenly, a smoldering look directed at the blonde, "when you were wearing the red dress…oh, yes…there!"

Brenda slowed her movements again. "Tell me…"

"When I saw you in it for the first time, leaning over…suggestively…I wanted to walk up to you and-" Sharon chuckled suddenly, the sound somewhat distorted by her labored breathing. "I was convinced you did it on purpose."

"I did," Brenda responded, her lips caressing Sharon's cheek as she spoke. "I wanted you to look…I wanted you to want me."

"…I wanted you."

The blonde sighed gently at the words then slowly kissed along Sharon's jaw, biting teasingly towards her chin which she nibbled on almost affectionately.

"Kiss me," Sharon drew out, her voice hoarse and her hand trembling against Brenda's skin.

The blonde moved her lips to Sharon's, hovered over them to tease the woman into insanity. It was probably the most powerful she had ever felt in her entire life. She kissed Sharon then with her eyes open at first, giving into the woman's needs.

Kissing, Sharon wanted it a lot and her kisses were almost always demanding, hard, deep and passionate, and Brenda had felt like she was about to be devoured, as if the woman was starving for it…for her, on what now seemed countless occasions.

Not that Brenda minded.

It were the silent, slow kisses, the ones where she felt her Captain's calculating, conniving brain work, that she had to be afraid of.

This time though she was intend on controlling the pace of the kiss. She made it a slow one, lazy, where their tongues touched unashamedly, no asking for permission, no awkwardness, no hesitation of the slightest sort. Just an exchange of fluids, a wet, hot connection that had them soon melting into each other.

It lasted until Brenda pushed as deeply into Sharon as her fingers would go, her palm pressed against the woman's center so hard it drew a sharp gasp from Sharon's lips.

The brunette's breath hitched with every breath she took. She exhaled shakily against Brenda's lips who inhaled every last bit of Sharon Raydor.

"You've been torturing me for at least an hour already," Sharon gasped again yet managed to speak in an even tone of voice, her fingertips digging into Brenda's upper arm, the indignation of having to point out the obvious, that she wanted what only Brenda could offer, turning her expression sour.

"Forty-seven minutes…" She whispered, having glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table then put on her most dead-pan expression. "Think you can make it another thirteen?"

"Bite me," Sharon hissed.

Brenda licked her lip, inadvertently touching Sharon's also due to their proximity, and then she breathed along her jaw, her neck, tasting the woman's skin and stopped short near her shoulder.

She kissed it softly and licked the spot, feeling naughty as she did so. "That wasn't very nice, Captain Raydor, now was it?"

"Are we back to that?" Sharon wondered tightly yet Brenda could feel her leg move, allowing the blonde even more access.

"Oh, Captain," Brenda teased, grinning against the soft skin while her fingers moved slowly. "You can't just go 'round tellin' people to bite you…"

"And why is that?"

"They might take you up on it." Brenda grinned and then proceeded to sink her teeth into the woman's shoulder, almost breaking the delicate skin.

Sharon's breath hitched, her eyes wide open as she felt the searing, almost painful pleasure. "Oh my god," the words fell from her lips breathily, her expression stunned as she almost completely forgot that Brenda Leigh Johnson's fingers were buried within her.

It came back to her, Brenda willed her to remember with a deep thrust. The blonde hummed as she felt the brunette clench around her fingers and kissed and nibbled the spot she had just bitten. "Oh, Captain," she whispered into the woman's ear with practiced nonchalance.

The brunette's fingers dug into her arm and for the first time her hips met Brenda's thrust while a strangled, wailing moan forced its way past the woman's parted lips.

Sharon squeezed her eyes shut at the overwhelming intensity of her pleasure; she sobbed, her back arching and suddenly the woman found herself what could only be described as clinging to Brenda as she fell over the edge, achingly, achingly, achingly slowly, and her orgasm came crashing down upon her.

"Brenda," she wailed, not fighting it. "Brenda…"

The blonde willed her eyes to stay opened, afraid of that one word, of her own name and how it felt to hear it uttered like this. Brenda swallowed then her eyes closed after all, she sighed and breathed the woman in, breathed in her essence and felt her, drank her in and memorized as much as she could of that very moment because moments like those were usually over far too quickly.

There was almost silence, Brenda's whispered breath ghosting over Sharon's skin, and then her Captain opened her eyes.

The brunette stared at the ceiling.

She sighed.

Brenda felt her throb and clench around her fingers.

Then Sharon's eyes darted towards her, connecting with Brenda's own, a breathless, silent moment went by and then the brunette pulled her down for a searing kiss.

The blonde felt her Captain's slightly damp palm against her neck, her fingers woven into her hair as Sharon seemed to kiss her into next week.

Brenda pulled her fingers out slowly, feeling twitches and throbs, and then their lips separated and they looked at each other for yet another silent moment.

The blonde felt something working in the back of her mind, felt a strange, irrational pull, felt like—felt like—like—

Whatever it was, Sharon clearly did not feel it. She turned onto her side.

And before Brenda could help it she said, "I see you're not the cuddlin' type…"

Sharon glanced at her over her shoulder and gave her one of her incredulous looks that didn't quite look as condescending as usual in her current state. "Do you feel the need to…" Her eyes narrowed and the corners of her lips turned downwards in distaste as she forced the next word past her lips, "_cuddle_?" Sharon shifted and lifted the sheet a little. "If you do, we can…try?"

Brenda contemplated that for an infinitesimal moment then pursed her lips. "Not if you're being like that."

"Oh, _please_…"

"And why do you get to be in the man-position? If anything, I should be the one-"

"Okay, that's it," Sharon interrupted, dropping the sheet. "I tried to make nice but now you're just ruining my bliss which you yourself worked so hard for." She closed her eyes, breathed in and out and swallowed once while she looked like she was sinking back into the blissful feeling.

The blonde pouted even though Sharon could hardly see it. She stared down at the brunette with a lifted eyebrow, knowing she would not be the one who caved.

_That woman!_

Brenda bit her lip and pulled the sheet up, her head coming to rest on a pillow. She looked at Sharon, her Captain, really looked at her because she couldn't help it at all, couldn't help but study her features, her eyelashes, her lips, the little wrinkles around them-

"Don't do that."

The blonde blinked, startled and sucked her lower lip in, feeling caught while Raydor just seemed to sink into her goddamn bliss.

Brenda's nostrils flared in anger.

"Fine," she said tightly and scooted closer, putting her head next to Sharon's on the pillow, melting at the woman's scent and putting an arm over her waist and spooning her side and sighing in contentment. "You get to be in the man position."

There was silence but Brenda knew her Captain was blinking disapprovingly then her husky, somewhat nasal voice resounded in its usual even fashion, "You're the worst thing that could have possibly happened to feminism."

Brenda smiled gently and kissed the woman's shoulder. "Likewise…"

* * *

Her purse was a bottomless pit Brenda had to admit when she shoved its complete contents to one side and back in search of a certain something.

Something sweet. Something…soft. Something she really, really needed right then.

Against her fingertips she felt the cool wrapping of a Ding Dong. Finally. Brenda sighed quietly in relief and put her purse on the floor.

She glanced over her shoulder, making out the still silhouette of the Captain then got out of bed carefully and tiptoed towards her destination. She started unwrapping before she had even reached the armchair, which Brenda wanted to get comfortable on.

The blonde sat, curled up into her favorite position, the flavor of the chocolate almost palpable in the air and then she brought her lips to the cake, ready for that first glorious bite and-

_"_After everything we've done and seen, you're still too embarrassed to eat chocolate in front of me."

Brenda's mouth wouldn't close immediately as she stared into the darkness and heard Sharon breathe in and out, her senses heightened. Her next impulse was to hide the evidence of the crime – the Ding Dong – but managed to stop herself from doing so and put on a tight smile instead that the Captain wouldn't be able to see anyway.

"Um..." She started feebly and gave up as the little bedside lamp came on. "Sorry," Brenda said, "didn't mean to wake you up."

Sharon lifted an eyebrow and let her fingers glide through her hair to tame, a futile attempt even though it seemed like a well-practiced move, carried out every morning or so Brenda thought.

Then she realized she had been staring at the Captain for far too long.

Brenda glanced at the half unwrapped cake in her hand then at the bed with her Captain in it and uncurled begrudgingly and pointedly slowly before she vacated the armchair. She made her way over, feeling the eyes on her and trying to make the Ding Dong less prominent by hiding it as well as she could in her hand and against her almost naked body.

Sliding back into bed with a look of practiced nonchalance on her face yet avoiding her Captain's gaze, Brenda felt her cheeks turning pink.

She was doing it on purpose, that woman, Brenda just knew it.

_"_Well," Sharon began, her voice rough from sleep still, "are you going to share?"

Share?

The blonde felt a sudden tickle of excitement but realized soon thereafter that she would actually have to part with at least half of her cake.

"Of course," she said and smiled tightly. "Sure. Why not?" She added a little laugh and looked at the Ding Dong, smile fading.

"Here," Sharon's hand appeared. "Let me introduce you to the concept – I know it must be _very_ hard for you, Chief Johnson."

Brenda's expression turned sour as the Captain took the treat right out of her hand and, to the blonde's dismay and utter shock, bit into the cake right away.

That wasn't how it was done! Leave it to Raydor to ruin even this for her.

"Very nice," Sharon hummed and dipped her finger into the filling. She licked the white sweetness off without much of a spectacle then broke the Ding Dong in half and handed one of them to Brenda who could only stare at half the bite mark.

Brenda's bottom lip quivered then she decided to not waste a perfectly good half of a cake and took her first bite, trying to keep the humming and moaning to a minimum. She relaxed slowly and propped herself up against the headboard.

Delicious.

She leaned over and did what she had wanted to do for quite some time – she kissed Sharon, tasting chocolate, filling, sweetness, the woman, everything.

_Delicious._

_"_Hmmm," the sound vibrated against her lips. "You have some...some chocolate..." Raydor went on, her voice all unsteady and her body all soft, something Brenda loved doing to her.

The blonde licked her lip, trying to catch the droplet of chocolate.

"On your stomach," the Captain finished more composed.

Brenda looked down and saw the spot the Ding Dong had left as she had tried to hide it. "Oh," she commented and rolled onto her back, wetting her finger. She caught most of the chocolate, less embarrassed than she was only a minute ago.

Suddenly she felt quite melancholic, knowing that her time away from life, the job and Fritz and everything would end soon.

A glance at the clock revealed that it was almost eight.

The night was over.

Raydor was over.

She stared at the Ding Dong.

"My daddy's just like Fritz…he would want me to take that silly job." Brenda stared at the ceiling then glanced over at Sharon. "Would you take the job if they offered it to you?"

Sharon merely lifted an eyebrow.

"Of course you would…you'd take any promotion."

"I fail to see what is so abhorrent about the position of Assistant Chief of Police that makes you reject it so vehemently?"

The blonde scoffed. "A desk job? Added responsibility, paperwork…politics! "

"More money, more power, a bigger office-"

"If you like it so much, why don't you put in for it?"

"Because," Sharon said evenly and turned onto her side, looking down at Brenda. "The only promotion somebody like me is eligible for is another position within my department – they would have to worry about somebody stabbing me in the back if they released me into general population."

"That's not true!"

"No one is going to trust me again…_ever_."

"You don't know that…"

Sharon lifted a single brow. "I do know that."

"Well, I trust you," Brenda said before she could think better of it. "But…" She searched for something to downplay it with. "But that's only 'cause I know you."

Sharon did that thing, where she chuckled a bit condescendingly. "You don't know me."

"I do! I do so! I may not know every little detail about you but most of the times I know what's goin' to come out of your mouth before you even thought of sayin' it."

The brunette snorted.

"You know what I mean," the blonde persisted with a pointed look.

Sharon didn't say anything at first, her eyes focusing on something else in the room then her smirk turned into a mild grimace and she nodded. "I do know what you mean," she said with practiced distaste and laid back down on her back. "I usually like when I'm right, which is often, but I truly despise the fact that I can predict your actions correctly."

Brenda turned onto her side and scooted closer to the woman beneath the sheets until their bodies were touching a little. "You bring out the worst in me," she husked, not sure if Sharon had picked up on the double-entendre; knowing her as she did, Brenda guessed that the woman did, yet refused to comment on it.

"I know." The brunette shook her head, not so much at the comment but more at the fact that she felt the blonde's hand trail nonchalantly up her thigh. "Maybe I should put in for that job after all."

"You don't like yours no more?" Brenda drawled playfully yet added a dangerous edge to the statement.

"I do," Sharon said, her voice quavering a bit. "I do like my team and my work. But the prospect of moving up, moving _on_…instead of being stuck in Internal Affairs for the rest of my career-"

"So you don't like bein' stuck?" Brenda interrupted, her fingertips dancing over the woman's hip.

"Nobody does but I made a choice," she said pointedly. "I made decisions and I can't look back now and start questioning them."

Brenda nodded after a moment – she understood.

"We can't afford to doubt ourselves…you know that."

"I do."

"But…it would be great to be the boss of you, Chief Johnson."

Brenda lifted an eyebrow in amusement and rubbed her thigh against Sharon's. "Is that so, Cap'n Raydor?"

"Mmhm," Sharon hummed and let her fingertips trail tentatively over the blonde's leg. "I'd certainly do a much better job than Will Pope."

Brenda snorted. "A better job of what?" She shifted slowly, making it sensual, and pushed her thigh between Sharon's. "A better job of bossin' me around? Of aggravatin' me? Of making my life difficult?" She realized with glee that the woman was warm and deliciously moist between the legs.

"Nooo," the brunette drawled, "A better job of helping you achieve your goals."

Brenda bit her lip and ground her hips, rubbing herself against the woman. "Which are?"

Sharon smirked and pushed her onto her back, settling down atop her, thigh firmly lodged between Brenda's legs. "Solving your cases to both our mutual satisfaction."

Brenda wove her fingers through that thick, luscious mane and tugged the woman down as they settled into a faster rhythm. "Satisfaction?" The blonde asked, as if to clarify with hooded eyes and already heaving breath.

"Oh, yes, lots of it," Sharon confirmed and brought their lips together.

Then a cell phone rang.

Brenda didn't even contemplate stopping as she heard the incessant buzzing of the vibrating phone but instead pressed their hips together. "Don't answer that," she ordered, seeking more friction.

"Hmm," Sharon hummed, biting her lip. "It's yours."

"My what?" Brenda blinked. "Oh!" She stopped at once and stared at the vibrating device on the bed-side table. "Oh, no! It's mine…" The blonde shifted.

"Hey!" Sharon said incredulously. "What do you think you're doing?"

"It could be work," the blonde explained as she stretched and reached for her cell phone.

"But-"

"Hello? Deputy Chief Johnson?" Brenda glanced back at what she was leaving behind as she climbed out of bed – a very disgruntled, yet still very sexy and appealing Sharon Raydor…

"Oh, hi, Fritzi." She swallowed heavily, leveling her voice.

"Where are you?"

Brenda glanced out of the window, having difficulty returning to real life. "Why, where are you?" Answering a question with another question but he had no reason to be suspicious, the blonde reasoned and listened to what was going on on the other end of the line.

_"_Well," he said, "We just entered L.A. County."

_"_What?" Her pulse sped up.

_"_Morgan and I decided to take a car back today, surprise our significant others," Fritz stated evenly. "You don't sound positively surprised."

_"_Oh, um..."

_"_Don't tell me you went back to work."

_"_No," Brenda said immediately, turning her back on the Captain and wandering to the windows. "I just left the house..."

_"_Well, you better be home when I get there, Bren 'cause I got another surprise for you."

_"_More surprises?" She played along. "Oh, Fritzi, you shouldn't have!"

_"_Just turn the car back around, honey," he went on, "Provenza can handle it..."

_"_Okay," she smiled, relieved. "I'll be there..."

She hung up.

_Oh, hell…_

"Um…" Brenda went to pick up the first thing that came into her line of sight, which happened to be a bra and began to slip into it.

"Brenda-"

"Captain," The blonde blinked, "I mean…Sharon. That was Fritz on the phone-"

"I gathered…"

"-and I just have to get on home really quickly."

"Chief."

"I'm…sorry, to leave you…like that…"

"That's mine."

Brenda pulled a strap up her arm. "What is?" She looked down as soon as the question had left her mouth and noticed that she wasn't quite fitting into what she was wearing. "Oh."

"Yes, oh," Sharon said silkily, draping her body across the bed.

The blonde undressed. She had to get home. What in the world had she been thinking? Why did she think she could get away with it?

No one ever got away with it.

Where was that damned dress?

"Here…" Sharon held it out to her, the black silky material of the dress Brenda had worn for their date in stark contrast to the Captain's skin.

"Thanks," the blonde said dazedly, staring down at her wrinkled dress. She stuffed it in her purse…and felt the clean set up panties against her fingertips.

How dreadful.

How very awful was she?

Brenda picked up her purse and dashed into the bathroom, feeling Sharon's gaze upon her.

Okay, she thought, okay, she had to play this right, as bad as that sounded but she had to play it right. A glance in the mirror confirmed that she needed to clean herself up. She smelled of sex. Worse even; she smelled of another woman.

Brenda turned the shower on and stepped under the scalding hot spray.

She was going to hell for this. She was going to hell.

* * *

Dressed in the light gray woolen dress she had worn on her way to the hotel, a comfortable dress that didn't smell of sex or another woman, Brenda stepped out of the bathroom, trying to remember where she had put the pastel pink parka she had been wearing.

And where was her clutch?

The red one.

As she stepped into the room she immediately detected the scent of waffles. She knew it by heart and for some reason, Raydor, that irritating woman came to mind. She found her sitting on the bed, clad in a white fluffy robe, syrup dripping down her chin.

"Sorry," she said, sounding very little apologetic as she wiped at her chin with a serviette, appearing, for the first time, a little uncouth. "You want any?"

Yes, Brenda wanted to say but instead she said, "You didn't put that on my credit card, did you?"

"Of course," Raydor replied evenly. "I'm a complete and utter amateur."

The blonde bit down on the first thing that came to mind yet what left her mouth next didn't seem any better in comparison either. "So you're a professional at this whole affair business then, Captain."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that," Sharon said, not sounding offended in the slightest but more concerned about her waffles and the syrup and Brenda potentially spoiling the mood for her.

"Look," the blonde found her red clutch and stuffed it in her purse. "Um, Fritz is gonna be home soon so I really have to go."

"…okay."

Brenda blinked as Raydor dunked her waffle into the syrup saucier. "Okay," she parroted sub-consciously. "Um…well then." She stepped closer to the bed. "Thank you, Cap'n Raydor…I mean…um, Sharon. Thank you, I mean...um-"

"Goodbye?" Sharon supplied helpfully.

"Yes," Brenda smiled, blushing. "Bye…Sharon."

"Bye, Brenda." The brunette drawled, amused.

The blonde nodded to herself. "Bye." She glanced down at the woman then grabbed the waffle with the syrup and bit off a big chunk. "Mmmh," she hummed, her eyes closing. She chewed and swallowed, her lips seeking Sharon's immediately thereafter.

Brenda pressed their lips together, humming at the last hints of syrup. "Sharin'," she mumbled. "I know you're not accustomed to it, Cap'n," the blonde went on, only inches between them, "but I'm sure you can see why this was necessary…"

A lazy grin spread over Sharon's features. "Perhaps, Chief, we can share dinner and a hotel room again some time."

Brenda stilled, her eyes darting about the room for a moment as she contemplated the offer. At last a small smile formed on her lips and her eyes connected with Sharon's. "See you soon, Cap'n Raydor…"


	31. Chapter 31

**Author's Note: Well, LJ is still playing up which is why I'm only posting here :( Anyhow, thanks to all of you for your support and the encouraging words, I truly appreciate them. Now, without further ado, on to the next chapter... **

**Chapter Thirty-One:**

Appearances Are Deceiving

She had contemplated to blast through Los Angeles traffic sirens blaring and lights flashing but had done no such thing.

Surely, Brenda thought, if her marriage truly were on the line, she would have done it.

The blonde glanced at the seat beside her, at her alibi and cursed herself – she was an utter bitch.

But then perhaps she wasn't.

Brenda sighed as she turned onto her street. If there weren't things she needed, she wouldn't be doing all this, she wouldn't be hopping in bed with Raydor at every chance she got if it weren't for those things she missed.

She had needs, that was what it all came down to. She needed what Raydor gave her, as horrible as it sounded.

_Oh, that awful woman! That evil…evil…terrible witch!_

What was it about her? Brenda didn't know nor was she anywhere near finding an answer to her question.

The blonde parked her car in the driveway and grabbed her purse. She was about to grab the paper bag on the passenger seat when she caught a glimpse of a slowing car.

Fritz.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Brenda muttered under her breath and dug into her purse. She pulled out the red clutch, her dress, balled up and wrinkled then went in search of her dirty underwear.

"See you later," she heard Fritz say and chanced a glance at him waving at the car.

No panties. She had surely put them in there yet…no panties.

Brenda stuffed the clutch and dress under her seat, adopting a nonchalant expression and exited her car. "Hi, Fritzi!"

"Hey," he said cheerily, taking off his sunglasses before he gave her a kiss. "Waffles?" He wondered with a raised eyebrow, smacking his lips.

"Um," Brenda held up the paper bag. "Best waffles in town," she sing-songed with a practiced grin. In all honesty, she had wanted to get French Toast. The best in town. But her lips had betrayed her and had uttered the words 'waffles' and 'syrup' as she had stood before the woman at the counter to give her order.

So waffles it was which apparently happened to be a good thing too.

"Ha," Fritz said, coming to a conclusion. "So that's where you went off to…"

Brenda blinked. "Yeah…"

Lies, she thought, even though she had studied them, practiced them, Brenda was surprised at how easily that one had slipped past her lips.

As she entered ahead of Fritz and saw Joel approach them with sleepy eyes, Brenda felt strangely trapped in her own home and she started to wonder if she had truly considered all the details. One slip up, one little thing she hadn't thought of and all of this could blow up in her face.

It wasn't like her to think like this, Brenda mused as she fed Joel, doubts led to mistakes. When one lied, one couldn't give into insecurities.

"How was your night out?"

The blonde blinked at Fritz then at the two boxes containing the waffles. "Nice."

"You painted the town red then?" He mocked a little with a small smirk playing around his lips.

Brenda panicked inwardly but put on a nonchalant expression. "I took a stroll," she said, "down Abbot Kinney Boulevard. And I had a milkshake."

"Ah," Fritz said, amused. "Sounds like you had fun."

"I did," Brenda answered and picked up her waffle container. "How was your evenin'? Had a great time with Agent Morgan?" She shouldn't be saying the woman's name like that, in that tone, but the blonde couldn't help it. Something about that Agent Morgan irritated her.

"I did." Fritz said pointedly, his eyebrows raised high. "Thought of putting a good word in, get her promoted to my team."

The blonde nodded slowly. "Really?" She forgot all about her waffle.

"Yeah," he said and sipped the coffee Brenda had completely missed he brewed. "By the way," he went on, not nonchalantly at all but rather in her face instead. "We're having dinner tonight."

The blonde's mouth opened slowly. "You and Agent Morgan?" She asked incredulously.

"She's married, for god's sake, married!"

Brenda pursed her lips, looking like she had taken a huge chunk out of a lemon. "If that meant anything these days then-"

"Then what?"

She swallowed – had she just said that? Brenda shook her head, blinking furiously as she looked at Fritz. "I…I'm…"

"You know," he said dangerously calmly. "If anyone of the two of us had to be suspicious, justifiably so, then that had to be me."

And there it was again. Brenda puffed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what it's supposed to mean."

"No, I don't," Brenda replied evenly, feeling tears prick at the corners of her eyes. "That thing with Raydor has been dealt with and now it's over," she said, her anger boiling. "And it's entirely unfair-"

"Unfair? Unfair?"

"Unfair of you to bring it up whenever you need a little leverage!"

Fritz scoffed. "I don't need it, I have it already."

"Well, I'm sorry I made a mistake," Brenda shouted back. "But I-"

"Mistake?" Fritz lifted his eyebrows, hands on his hips. "I'm seeing a pattern here."

"Pattern?" The blonde wondered, having a feeling of where this was going but hoping Fritz would not touch that subject.

"Pope? Huh? You cheated with him on his wife. And the only reason you get jealous right now is because you can't trust yourself!"

She knew that Fritz knew he had crossed a line but Brenda was also very much aware that it had taken months for him to be pushed over it. "How can you bring that up?" She asked shakily. "Something I've done years before we even got together."

Fritz released a small breath. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, that's just words."

"Brenda…"

She turned on her heel, waffle container firmly in her hand.

"And remember," Fritz yelled after her. "We're having dinner with them tonight."

What? Brenda glanced back into the kitchen. "With whom?"

"Holly," Fritz said. "And Reese."

The blonde blinked. "Well, I'm not goin'."

"Tough luck," Fritz said. "They're coming here."

Wonderful, Brenda thought, she better eat that waffle then…

* * *

Technically they were still fighting.

Brenda knew she could be a bitch but she usually wasn't doing it just to be spiteful. She always felt rather validated and on the right side of things; she realized she might be laying it on rather thick this time, working the guilt, but knew she didn't entirely deserve to do so.

Not that she thought about it more than was necessary.

Besides, Fritz didn't apologize, again.

So, yes, technically they were still fighting but she put on a tight smile as the doorbell rang. Her arms were crossed and Brenda couldn't be bothered to be closer to Fritz than was necessary but she did make a point to look somewhat interested in the goings-on which was why she managed to keep a straight face when her husband opened the door.

"You remember Holly, right…honey?"

Brenda nodded. "Nice to see you again."

"And Reese," Fritz said, eyebrows raised and an uncanny, almost self-satisfied smirk on his face.

The blonde did what her mama had taught her to do in tough situations, when one didn't know how to react – she put on a polite smile.

And watched in rapt fascination as she grasped Reese's hand and shook it.

"Pleasure," Reese said.

"Likewise," Brenda responded and let her eyes wander over the woman.

She wasn't entirely sure what all this was about and couldn't refrain from glancing at her husband who pointedly avoided her gaze.

Well then, Brenda figured and smoothed out the creases in her dress, she would just have to play it by ear.

Besides, she thought, this had nothing to do with her.

Or Raydor.

She wasn't gay.

And it bothered her that even her own mind betrayed her and went straight to that.

It didn't matter what she was, or wasn't, and she didn't care in the slightest what Raydor was.

Brenda poked at her vegetables – Holly and Reese were vegetarians – and glanced up at them both. They probably had gay sex all the time, she thought, they probably did what she and Raydor did every night before they went to sleep.

Because she and Raydor had gay sex. Lesbian sex. Two women doing it.

It was stupid to think of it that way, even the fact that she wondered whether it counted if none of the parties involved was actually a lesbian.

It didn't matter.

It was a none-issue.

And Brenda didn't merely try to convince herself of this, no, this was actually her opinion.

To turn this whole thing into something it wasn't just for the sake of calling it something didn't appeal to the blonde in the slightest. Besides, that wasn't at all like her anyway because Brenda rather preferred things to remain unnamed and undefined.

Naming it gave it importance and that little affair she had with Raydor, gay sex or not, meant very little to her.

Even though it seemed to dominate her thoughts lately.

But that was only because-

"So," Reese interrupted. "How old is your cat?"

The woman had already complimented their home and décor, had already inquired about how they met and when, and the only thing left, apparently, was Joel, who had draped himself over the back of the couch.

"Joel? She's-"

"He!" Fritz threw in. "_He_ is almost a year old now."

"We've got a dog," Reese said cautiously, glancing back and fro between the couple. "Bandit."

"See?" Brenda lifted her eyebrows at Fritz. "That's a proper pet name." She looked at her guests. "He named Joel."

"And you love him," he patted her arm.

She did, even though he had a hideous name and perhaps she didn't care much about what he was called, perhaps she hadn't wanted him because of Kitty but she loved Joel now.

"True," she said and ate her vegetables. "Um, how long have you had Bandit?" She couldn't believe they were talking about their pets – how old were they? Ten? Twelve?

"We've had him since he was a puppy…he's nine now."

Nine, Brenda thought, that's a long time to commit to something. They would have had to be together for some time before they decided to get a dog.

They had probably managed to commit to each other for longer than Brenda had ever managed to commit to anything. Including Fritz. Or her job, really.

And now she wasn't on the right track again.

Suddenly Brenda felt nauseous.

She was screwing Sharon Raydor.

Why did that thought terrify her this much?

Of course, there was that whole cheating business, not that she was really _really_ cheating, just perhaps maybe a little bit because after all, it was only a tiny affair and Raydor could be anyone, really, she could be a guy too and she could be having straight sex with him and not gay sex with Raydor.

Usually, Brenda realized, she knew all these things before she got involved.

Usually, she knew most of the answers before she jumped into these types of things.

She had taken forever with Fritz even though she had known early on that she was in love with him, madly so, whereas with Raydor, despite there being a whole lot of emotions involved, Brenda found that her heart seemed to be on the wrong side of mad.

She poked at a pea.

Perhaps that was why she needed all this so much. Not knowing. Not knowing the answers and perhaps if she found them the whole thing would lose its appeal and go away.

For a moment Brenda felt light-headed – could it really be that easy? She didn't want to know, that much was clear but she was only being selfish and not talking to Raydor, not asking the woman, would be cowardly and wrong.

Her marriage should come first.

"If y'all would excuse me for a second…" Brenda dabbed at her lips with the serviette. "I'll be right back." She got up and made a beeline for her purse.

Clearly, the blonde mused as she swept from the room, she was losing her mind. Only this morning she hadn't wasted the littlest thought as to why she was unbearably attracted to a woman – she had simply assumed it was merely Raydor.

And perhaps that was the case which brought her back to the question she had mulled over in her head a million times – why that god-awful woman?

For heaven's sakes!

Brenda slammed the door to the bathroom shut and locked it. She leaned against it for a moment, her head coming to rest against the wood as she tried to gather her senses.

Then she rummaged through her purse and pulled her cell phone from it.

As she dialed, the blonde took a seat on the closed toilet lid and waited, counting the rings and finding it unusual that the woman wouldn't pick up sooner.

"Chief Johnson!" The voice on the other end sounded overly exuberant, yet falsely so. "What can I help you with?"

What indeed? Brenda's lips wouldn't move, in fact, her mind wouldn't come up with a single thing.

She had no idea what the question was she required an answer to.

And then there was a sudden, unexpected series of rapid shots. One after the other, bang, bang, bang.

Her mind went completely blank for an infinitesimal moment then she said, quietly, "Sharon?"

"Target practice." The woman responded coolly then explained, "I've just finished at the shooting range."

How dare she, Brenda thought as she nearly stuck her head between her legs, how dare she not inform her of this sooner!

How dare she make her worry!

"Now, is there anything I can do for you or is this a purely social call?" Raydor mocked condescendingly.

Oh, that woman! How mean she was, how entirely unattractive. Brenda rolled her eyes. "What are you gettin' out of this, Captain?"

"Excuse me?"

"What is it that you want…from me?" Brenda felt her own body shake, not having realized that her veins were suddenly flooded with adrenalin, that the tips of her fingers were turning numb with fear, fear of an honest answer.

"I don't want anything from you," Raydor answered slowly.

"But…" Brenda's lower lip trembled. "But what do you get out of this?" Stupid question. "Why are you doin' what you're doin'?"

There was a short pause then Sharon said, "Why not?"

Why not? The blonde's mouth fell open slowly. "That's it?"

"Yep. That's it."

Silence.

"That's just not enough."

"It's the only answer you're going to get."

"Well, it's a pathetic one," Brenda said petulantly.

"Oh, please! Can we not have this discussion on the phone or better yet – not at all."

The blonde scoffed. "You're being completely unreasonable!"

"I'm hanging up."

"You know what I think? I think you're just usin' me as some sort of guinea pig to figure out whatever the heck you are! But I have you know, Captain, that I-"

_Click._

Brenda stilled then stared at the phone.

Fine, she thought, fine, have it your way, Captain.

She got up and flushed the toilet quite unnecessarily then threw her phone back into her purse.

As she approached the table, apologetic smile firmly in place, especially under Fritz's scrutinizing gaze, she couldn't help but stare at their guests again.

"We were just talking about what a small place this world is, honey!"

"Really," Brenda sat delicately, "how's that?"

"Well," Fritz pointed at Reese. "We've got us another cop here."

"Really?" The blonde repeated redundantly. "Which division?" She asked out of politeness, thinking that she could hardly know every single cop in the department, just like that Agent Morgan and that wife of hers couldn't possibly know every lesbian in town because if that were so, that thing with Raydor would have made the rounds ages ago…if Raydor were a lesbian that is.

Brenda had to wonder…

"Narcotics."

"Really?" The blonde said yet again, shaking her head.

What if Sharon was gay?

What would that make her?

"Yeah…um, and just let me say, Chief, that you would have gotten my vote if any of us within the department actually had any say as to who would become our new boss."

Brenda swallowed and licked her lower lip. "Yes, well…"

Reese smiled and glanced at Holly. "Just like Captain Raydor said, the women quota is a load-"

"Who?" The blonde's head snapped up. Right, she blinked, she was having a conversation.

"Yeah, honey," Fritz said tightly, "That's what we were just discussing."

"You were discussing Captain Raydor?"

"No. How the world is a small place."

Brenda sucked on her lower lip. "…oh."

And just as Fritz was about to retort, Brenda fearing the worst, that Agent Morgan interrupted. "Her son got promoted to my Task Force, right after you left, Fritz." She grinned slightly. "Remember? That tall suit with the hair? Only wears black?"

Brenda risked a glance at Fritz; he was nodding slowly.

"Right! He was one of the guys that Drug Trafficking sent us when we took El Diablo." He shook his head, Brenda momentarily forgotten. "Talked to the guy…can't believe I missed that."

"Goes by the father's name," Holly supplied.

Son? Father's name? Brenda desperately wanted to close her ears and hear no more of this. She didn't want to know even the littlest, remotely personal detail about Captain Raydor because that was who she was – Captain Sharon Raydor – and she had no personal life, no family, no nothing that could get in the way or make Brenda doubt what she was doing.

And leave it to Fritz to ruin even that!

She looked at him with her angry face, nostrils flaring.

He set her up. Plain and simple. What was he on about? Was he suspicious? After all, people did the craziest things when they were suspicious, paranoid.

The blonde went over the past couple months, trying to detect any mistake she could have possibly made, any carelessness or misplaced lie but came up empty.

Suddenly she felt rather mad, the wrong kind of mad that is but before she could drop that one sentence, before she could deal the deathly blow, her cell phone interrupted.

"S'cuse me, I have to get that…could be work," she said pointedly, not in the slightest apologetic. As she had fished her phone out of her purse once more and had glanced at the screen, Brenda decided to give Fritz some of his own medicine and delivered it with a smile.

"Speaking of the devil…" She answered the call. "Yes, Cap'n Raydor, what can I help you with?" The blonde held up her finger as she backed into the kitchen. "Just one second…" She turned, trying to get at least some privacy, and was just about to ask her Captain what the matter was when the woman launched into her diatribe.

"Let me just clarify a few things for you, Chief Johnson because I think we're having a bit of a miscommunication here-"

"Miscommunication?"

"There is no doubt in my mind that I am, in fact, your guinea pig because the only person involved here who does not know 'what the heck' they are is you, Chief," Raydor said slowly, quietly. "I'm perfectly clear on what I am and who I am."

Brenda swallowed. "Captain…"

"Goodbye."

Click.

The blonde breathed out through her nose.

"Ooooh, that woman!"

Brenda froze, she hadn't meant to say that out loud. Oh, well…

She held tightly onto her phone as she exited the kitchen and looked into the round of curious faces.

She wanted to apologize for the interruption, wanted to sit back down and prove to her husband that she was perfectly fine with the two lesbians sitting at her table and that she wasn't one of them but couldn't bring her feet to move.

Instead she picked up her purse, fear gripping at her very core, and threw her cell phone in it. "I'm sorry," Brenda heard herself say. "But I have to go. Um…there's been some sort of…miscommunication…at work."

* * *

She never came here by herself.

The place held memories – Brenda wouldn't call them 'fond' but oddly pleasant they were.

The smooth liquid in her glass seemed almost black, its natural color darkened by the red light. It swirled around and around, sparkling, dispersing its fruity, plum-like aroma.

Merlot.

Brenda sighed and let her gaze sweep around the Mountain Bar. Patrons at the bar ordered drinks, laughed, whereas she sat tucked away in a corner, nursing her glass of wine in contemplative silence. To anyone who cared to let their eyes stray towards that dimly lit booth, she looked like the embodiment of inner peace and quiet, sat there with her head tilted to the side, still and serene, enjoying her wine.

The truth was that Brenda was none of those things. She neither experienced inner peace nor did she hear the quiet. Her inner voice was giving her a headache and serenity seemed like a concept right out of another world to her.

What was she doing? Really?

She had stormed out on her husband just for the sake of hurting him – hurting him back, more like it.

His mistrust was insulting, yet not uncalled-for.

But the mere suggestion that Brenda had somehow missed a detail, had somehow slipped up along the way was worrying and also insulting in itself.

He couldn't possibly know anything.

Yes Brenda was very well aware of that gut feeling, that niggling thing, that tiny seed, that sometimes outweighed what one knew or didn't know.

She glanced at her phone, feeling crowded, feeling like her head was too full, too loud, thinking too fast and everything at once and all Brenda wanted was out.

But where to?

She had already fled her house and had come here…of all places.

The blonde picked up her wine and took a very generous sip, emptying her glass.

Raydor was her out, Brenda thought as she received her second glass. It was as clear as day and she wouldn't lie to herself about it anymore.

Raydor was where she went when there was too much of everything.

The blonde looked at the liquid, try to glimpse into its depths.

She wouldn't call.

She took a sip.

And then another.

Wine was a bit like chocolate, just that she couldn't overindulge. Brenda hated intoxication. With chocolate she could go on and on if she so desired but wine made her dizzy.

What would she say to the woman anyway after how their last talk had ended?

I'm sorry I'm using you? Nonsense.

You're better than chocolate? And wine? And I can't help but want you even though you're much worse than the two combined?

Utter nonsense.

Brenda contemplated ordering the whole bottle what with how quickly she managed to down her Merlot.

Half empty…not half full, she thought and pursed her lips.

She couldn't drive now, she was very well aware, but had to wonder why she was kidding herself by pretending she hadn't just done it on purpose.

The very simple truth was that she wouldn't be calling Fritz, couldn't rather, and she would not be getting a cab, no, she would call her Captain and take the verbal beating, the condescension and bear the indignation just to get the woman in here.

It was despicable.

The things she would do…

Brenda felt downright disgusted with herself.

She wouldn't call, and she wouldn't be miserable and sad and trying to appeal to Raydor's sense of sympathy.

She wouldn't call.

'Meet me at our place.'

There, Brenda thought and stared down at her phone as it told her that her message had been sent.

She picked up her wine then and drank it all, to hell with it, and ordered another one because she had already thrown caution to the wind as it was.

This one she would enjoy, Brenda vowed, realizing she had merely been waiting for the liquid courage to kick in.

As she waited however, nipping her wine painfully slowly, Brenda started to regret what she had done. Raydor wouldn't turn up. Why would she?

The blonde sat back, relieved.

She was being terribly silly, like a school girl stalking her crush, obsessing, pining with an overly maudlin disposedness to drama.

She had to clear her head, stay away from the woman, work on her marriage and-

"You know I'm not a Jinn that you can summon whenever you feel the whim to do so."

Brenda looked up with big eyes – a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. "Yet, here you are," she sing-songed perhaps a bit too confidently.

The Captain merely lifted an eyebrow, not buying it and said, "This better be good."

Well, Brenda thought, if she's gonna be like that…

"I had too much to drink and need a ride home," she said evenly, as evenly as one could with a southern twang, and put on her most displeased expression.

Raydor put her hands on her hips. "You're not serious."

"I am," Brenda responded petulantly and downed the last bit of her wine with pointed precision. As they left, in deathly silence, the blonde began to feel a bit gleeful because, after all, Raydor had shown up and she hadn't left again either.

That had to mean something.

…even when pathetic Raydor couldn't resist her.

Clearly, Brenda thought suddenly, she was a little tipsy.

Oh well, she chewed on her bottom lip, oh well…

"Captain…" She said, almost called after the woman who was marching towards her car. "Wohoo, Cap'n Raydor!"

"Look," Sharon stopped abruptly. "If this is how it's going to be from now on then I think we better quit this now."

The silly, tipsy smile on Brenda's face faded slowly, and she was about to say something defensive when the lights on Sharon's car blinked.

"Get in," the Captain ordered icily.

Sometimes, Brenda thought, sometimes she felt like she didn't have to explain herself to anyone, including the people who were closest to her. People have accused her of being self-righteous and following only her own agenda – perhaps that was true, at least to some degree.

Brenda was bad at sharing and the notion of somebody truly knowing her terrified her more than anything else.

She was bad at sharing, at admitting, at giving in.

The blonde reached over as Sharon was about to turn the key and start the ignition then took a moment before she let the words tumble from her mouth. "I have no idea what I'm doin'."

Sharon blinked.

"And…I…I'm…sorry."

The Captain turned the key as if she hadn't taken any notice at all. "I don't require an apology," she said curtly.

As much as Brenda hated to apologize, she hated having her apology thrown back in her face a million times more and she would be damned if she couldn't shove it right back to where it belonged. "But I shouldn't have asked you to come!"

"You're being presumptuous!" Sharon said louder in somewhat of an outburst then calmed herself with a quick breath while fixing Brenda with a withering glare. "And you've called me only because you can't bear feeling miserable all by yourself."

"That is not true," Brenda said immediately and noticed that the car was no longer running.

"I'm not your friend."

"I know that."

Sharon gripped the steering wheel. "I came because I wanted to see you."

The blonde nibbled on her lower lip, somewhat in awe at how her Captain could be so strong, strong enough to expose a weakness, just like that. "I wanted to see you too…" She admitted. "Fritz set me up with two lesbians."

"Not your friend," Sharon repeated quickly. "But, and I dread to ask…what?"

Brenda leaned back in her seat, getting comfortable. "I think he's getting suspicious."

"Your husband?"

"Fritz." The blonde sighed slowly. "I told him it was over…between you and I."

Sharon stared out into the darkness for a moment. "Do you want it to be ov-"

"No," Brenda interrupted with certainty in her voice. "No…" She smiled a little, her Georgia girl smile, and reached out, caressing Sharon's knee with a soft, feathery touch. "I don't know what I'm doin' but I know what I want…"

The Captain narrowed her eyes, the corners of her lips turning upwards almost imperceptibly as she leaned in. "And what is that exactly?"

Brenda tried to contain her gleefulness and lowered her voice. "Well, that's for me to know and for you to find out…"

The brunette's eyes twinkled.

And then the heaven's opened. Big, heavy drops of water landed on the windshield and the roof, filling the car with an eerie sound. Brenda found it soothing, she reveled in the sound that seemed to drown out every other noise.

"I'm not a cheater," Sharon said quietly, "I don't cheat."

"You're the one with the rule book," Brenda tried to joked, trying to lighten the mood again that had suddenly dropped but her Captain wouldn't lighten up, on the contrary.

"I don't cheat," she repeated. "Not on a math test, not on the detective's exam, not on people…"

That was where they differed, Brenda thought, for all their similarities, that was where their characters differed starkly from the other. "I do it all the time," the blonde said casually, trying not to blush at her admission.

"I get paid to lie…" It didn't feel as bad to admit it in front of Raydor, she would understand, wouldn't she?

The Captain nodded once, to Brenda's relief then the brunette's lips parted slowly. "But you know that's a very simplified job description…"

"Maybe," the blonde smiled and Raydor smiled back. "Well now, Cap'n…how about that ride home?"

Sharon turned the key again with a smirk. "You better buckle up, Chief…"

* * *

"Are you sure you want me to drive up to your house?"

"I am," Brenda nodded. "Right over there, Captain."

Sharon pursed her lips and parked the car smack in front of the house.

Brenda wondered if the woman's heart was pounding as strongly as her own as she stared up at the lit windows. Part of her hoped that Fritz would catch a glimpse of them, the other part hoped he wouldn't notice, wouldn't ask, wouldn't know a thing.

"Um…well, thank you, Captain Raydor." She looked at the brunette and shook her head slightly, an embarrassed laugh escaping her lips. "I mean…thank you…Sharon."

"You're welcome."

They shared another smile, as if there was this secret between them, not the obvious one, their affair, but something else.

"Alright then," Brenda opened the car door. "Bye, Cap'n Raydor. Have a nice evenin'."

"You as well, Chief."

Brenda closed the door again, hoisted her purse further up and marched up to the front door, faintly registering Raydor's car pulling away from the curb. The blonde rested her hand on the door knob for a moment in contemplative silence before she stuck the key in and entered.

The lights were on and the TV was relaying the latest news, making it impossible for the blonde to locate Fritz by sound alone. She dropped her purse on the couch and ventured forth into the dining room.

She didn't call out for him, an effort to perhaps delay the inevitable for another moment or two.

He wasn't in the kitchen either.

Brenda sucked on her lower lip and steeled herself as she pushed the door to the bedroom open.

There he was, folding a clean shirt and fitting it into his little bag.

"How was work?" He asked.

"…fine," Brenda answered, watching him, reading his body language as he turned around.

"Miscommunication all sorted out?"

The blonde said nothing. She knew what was coming. Her eyes watered, she wanted to burst out into tears, not for him but for herself because Brenda realized she truly had it coming.

"Work, huh?" Fritz picked up his bag. "I can smell the wine on you from over here."

"I had a drink…by myself," Brenda responded tightly, her fingers curling into fists. "I think I deserved that after what you've put me through today."

"What I've put you through?"

"We both know what you've been tryin' to do with your little dinner." She was good at turning arguments around, Brenda knew that but she was also painfully aware of the fact that Fritz knew all her little tricks.

She turned around and walked out into the hallway, hoping he would feel bad enough to leave it at that but she heard him follow immediately, not yet ready to drop this because his guilt was far outweighed by hers.

"Who dropped you off?"

Brenda kept walking. "Cap'n Raydor."

"Unbelievable," she heard Fritz mumble acidly from behind her. "You're unbelievable!" He not merely dropped his bag, he flung it and rushed after her. "And you wonder why I still have an issue…"

Brenda rolled her eyes and opened the wine cabinet. "Captain Raydor and I get along," she explained calmly on her way into the kitchen, bottle of wine and glass in hand. "We're friendly enough." But not really friends, according to Sharon.

"Friendly?"

"Yes," she replied nonchalantly, chancing a glance at him while in search of the cork screw. It was then that Brenda began to realize that she might have gone a little too far.

"You can't be friendly with somebody you've kissed-"

"I sure can!" She defended vehemently. "I'm friends with Will, aren't I?" A bad example, she knew that, but there wasn't another one – in fact, she didn't have any friends as it was, kissed or not.

"Will?" Fritz's nostrils flared. "You know exactly how I feel about that. He still wants you and you know it."

"That's not true," she pulled the cork from the bottle and poured. "That is absolutely not true."

"It is, c'mon, Brenda. He wants to have you."

"But he can't have me," the blonde left the bottle on the counter. "No one can, period. I'm not to be had-"

"You know what I meant!"

"No, I don't." She swept into the living room, turning off the TV. "I've done nothing that would warrant this behavior of yours. I've told you how sorry I am a hundred times but if that's not enough then what is?"

Brenda stared at him for a moment, trying to gauge his feelings, his thoughts. "I can't make it up to you if you don't let me…and I'm tired of bein' the bad guy…and of bein' tested." She took a breath to calm herself and put her glass down on the coffee table as she felt her hand shake.

"If you can't let go," she put her hands on her hips and watched him think. "Then how are we ever gonna get past this?"

She waited for him to say that he was sorry, that she was right, of course, that they had to move on and live their life together as they used to.

It had only been a kiss.

And then, there it was:

"I don't know how."

Brenda felt her body shake, grow limp.

"Maybe me being away for a couple of days isn't such a bad thing."

The blonde felt her stomach turn upside down, for a moment she feared she might empty the contents of her stomach – vegetables and Merlot – onto the floor but she didn't, instead she broke out into a cold sweat.

"Um…that's Holly."

Brenda turned and saw the headlights shining outside.

"I gotta go." He grabbed his little bag. "I'll call you when I get there."

"…okay," Brenda said in a near-whisper.

"…okay," Fritz sighed and walked past her to the door.

She heard him pause.

"I love you," he said and with that he was gone.

_~TBC~_


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter Thirty-Two:**

All Good Things come to Those who wait**  
**

She was on a shopping tour through the nearest shopping mall purely out of fear of ending up like Provenza.

Fritz was still on that job with that Agent Morgan and Brenda had found herself with a whole lot of places where she didn't really have to be – like at home, for instance.

Only Joel waited there for her but even he had his little routine; Brenda was pretty sure that he was lounging on the back of the couch right about now, deeply asleep.

She had eaten Chinese at the office yesterday and, while nursing her noodles, she had spotted Provenza munching away on a big slice of pizza, smudging his reports with his greasy fingers. They had shared a smile and a polite nod, both wondering if they should offer company and a nice chat.

They had eaten in silence, separated by a thin glass wall.

Brenda sighed and pursed her lips in utter boredom.

Shopping sprees were supposed to be fun, at least they were for most other women…

The blonde wandered past a sporting equipment store and gave a baseball bat a very hard and scrutinizing look.

Fritz liked baseball.

Her daddy didn't.

Perhaps she should start looking for gifts.

A nice gentleman sweater for her daddy, Brenda decided and promptly swerved to the right and into a clothing store. One with a horse on it, or an eagle. Those were the ones her mother always bought for him, 'because you look absolutely dashing in them, Clay.'

Her daddy hated them or at least he held a mild distaste for them – especially the motives, Brenda assumed and went for a red knitted sweater.

Her daddy was a man of simple needs. He liked things functional and straight-forward.

He saw beauty in a complete set of wrenches.

Perhaps she should get him something like that?

"A Flex Head Ratcheting Set," she read quietly.

"Hello, I'm Bob…"

Brenda blinked at the young fella.

"Anything I can help you with, ma'am?"

She let the ma'am slide but only because he had a slight southern twang.

"Um, I'm looking for a gift for my daddy…for Christmas."

"Of course," Bob said, "This is a very good choice! Did you know, that these wrenches only need as little as 5 degrees of sweep to move a fastener?"

Brenda wetted her lip. "No."

Bob smiled.

The wrenches it was.

Where her daddy was simple and practical, Fritz was complicated and messy.

He married her after all, didn't he?

Brenda flushed awkwardly as it occurred to her that indeed her husband was perhaps her perfect match.

She was practical, most of the time or perhaps she just didn't see the appeal in certain things. She appreciated good chocolate, a nice bottle of merlot, cat food in bulk and an autopsy that answered more questions than it brought up.

She liked shoes. She loved shoes.

Brenda let her eyes sweep over a particularly appealing set.

She used to not buy nice things for herself, she only bought chocolate and ice cream and treats from the bakery because she could easily eat away the evidence of her indulgence.

She used to have sweet, enjoyable sex with her husband.

She used to wear pink lipstick.

The blonde blinked the thoughts away and reached for the reddest lipstick Chanel had to offer.

Nowadays she bought nice things. She deserved them and she didn't feel bad for wanting them anymore. The thing was, Brenda mused as she paid for the lipstick, the thing was, she had been brought up modest and proper and respectable; to enjoy life but only so much, to want for things but never too many.

She had always looked up to her daddy. She had always wanted to be as strong as him and her daddy, with all his rules and restrictions, with all his faith in her and her abilities, had inevitably turned her into this.

She had rebelled, she had pushed back and done what she wanted despite his protests and she had worked harder than most and had tried to be better for fear she would let him down and disappoint him.

She was a strong, independent woman.

And Raydor, that cow, thought that she was the worst thing to happen to feminism.

Brenda wanted to roll her eyes.

She never did things to make a point, to show the world that, ha ha! a woman could do it just as well.

Most of the times her gender didn't even factor into her decision making.

She did whatever the hell she pleased and perhaps that wasn't feminism but worse than misogyny it certainly wasn't.

Raydor be damned.

Brenda loved being a woman, she had grown into it now and perhaps Fritz had helped her with that, with seeing herself in a different light but most of it she had done herself, she had grown comfortable and confident.

Confident enough to wear that.

A black, lacy bra and a string to go with it, both covering next to nothing.

Fritz would like it.

Brenda traced the outline of one of the cups and imagined herself in it lying on the bed. It was tasteful and sexy in an in-your-face type of way. Dirty, if two consenting adults having sex could be dirty.

Her breasts pushed up and chest thrust out, that's how the blonde saw herself, projecting confidence, like she knew what she wanted, Fritz liked that sort of thing.

This would be his gift, Brenda grinned inwardly.

Perhaps come Christmas, they would be back on speaking terms.

He hadn't called her back yet.

Brenda sighed and picked her size, tracing the fabric with a stoic expression. Things were difficult, things weren't as she had imagined they would be some five years ago.

Her life was in a bit of a mess.

More so than usual.

She had assumed she would die of a coronary someday induced by all the things Fritz put her through.

Relationships were hard work and most had been done by Fritz, Brenda had to admit. He had always informed her of his expectations, knowing full well that she herself was too dense to figure anything out on her own or worse, think intently about the state of their relationship, and all Brenda had had to do was to make the sacrifice, make the decision, make the compromise.

Now she was on her own.

The blonde suddenly felt in the mood to max out her credit card.

She was sleeping around on her husband, not that he knew any of that, but didn't he want to fix this? How was she supposed to do all this on her own?

Brenda's bottom lip trembled and her eyes watered with oncoming tears.

He knew how bad she was!

The blonde took a breath and wiped at her eyes, putting a brave smile onto her face to keep from crying in the middle of the lingerie section.

This would have to wait, she thought, if he didn't want to talk, she wouldn't go around chasing him. If he wanted it fixed, he knew where to find her.

Brenda congratulated herself, hoping it would make her feel better.

It didn't but instead she saw something that had the potential.

Green at midnight with a hint of blue. Black lace. Black embroidery. Artfully crafted cups that didn't reveal too much yet just enough to be enticing.

The material was silky soft and almost warm to the touch.

Brenda tiled her head and, biting down on her lower lip, took the bra off the hanger. She marveled at the cut, imagined how the garment would smooth itself along her curves, encasing her breasts and putting them on display with an alluring, burlesque flair.

Fritz wouldn't appreciate it, she thought, but she did and she was very well capable of feeling sexy and desirable all for herself.

This bra and its matching panties were made for women and women only.

It was $89.99.

Brenda's jaw dropped slightly and she glanced about, hoping no one had seen her less than attractive reaction.

It was rather pretty. Brenda bit her lip guiltily and caressed the lace with her fingertips. The color was so vibrant and so made for her. She should get it, just for herself…

The blonde inhaled slowly as she saw herself lying on a whole different bed, a big, luscious bed in a decidedly expensive hotel suit.

Raydor's breath ghosted over her partially exposed breast.

She held up the lingerie she had gotten for Fritz and stared at it; she wasn't really in the mood to have sex with him anyway, not when things were like this between them.

Oh, well, she thought and put the black bra away, she would go back to that sports place…

…or perhaps she should make him go to more of those ball games he liked.

* * *

"Hi, Brenda…and Joel, it's me…Fritz."

Brenda stared at the answering machine.

"Figured you weren't home yet…so…"

He sighed.

"San Diego's nice…Morgan and I are thinking about putting in for transfers," he joked. "It's the weather, we think, it's always great, and they've got the Padres…I switched teams before, maybe I could do it again."

Brenda picked Joel up and kissed his little head as she listened to Fritz's message in a sort of stasis.

"Well, I miss you."

The blonde smiled a little and held Joel tight.

"Talk soon, Brenda…"

"Talk soon…" She whispered and put Joel down just as the machine beeped, announcing the end of the message.

Wonderful.

Brenda stood for a moment, unmoving, in her still, quiet house. Her mind grinded to a halt and the silence went silent. No more cars outside, none of Joel's soft footsteps on the hardwood floor. Not even her own breathing.

She refused to think about what her life had come to and instead left the mail by the phone and her shoes in the middle of the hallway. She draped her jacket over the back of the sofa, right on Joel's favorite spot and dumped her purse on the dining table.

There, she felt much better, especially once she had taken a bottle of Merlot out of the cabinet without having to worry about it creaking and then, upon entering the kitchen, even the utter chaos she had managed to create in the mere span of two days didn't faze her.

Brenda didn't care about the dirty dishes in the sink – she was made to care because Fritz cared…

…but then that wasn't exactly true.

The blonde sighed. She did care about the mess, at least she did in the aftermath – a cluttered kitchen sink for example – but she didn't care much while creating it.

She liked things clean…and she liked having her clothes in order and not having to look for her purse every damn morning.

Fritz was her wife, at least in the classical Victorian sense which Brenda didn't think much of as it was.

And she was the cheating bastard who was married to the job and never remembered their anniversary.

The blonde fed Joel, the one thing she felt she managed to accomplish these days, and swayed into the bedroom with her wine glass in hand. She pulled down the zipper of her skirt which then pooled at her feet and climbed onto her bed. Sitting propped up against the headboard, staring into nothingness, Brenda took her first sip.

She wondered briefly as she swallowed, if Fritz hadn't taken this post on purpose just to get away from her and their marriage. He had assured her it would only be a couple of days, five tops.

As Brenda emptied her glass she finally admitted that she felt just downright awful. She couldn't stop thinking. Was she screwing up her marriage? Was she somehow, subconsciously, projecting some sort of guilt, some sort of thing that made Fritz question her?

Was she different now? A changed woman?

She was definitely a woman with a secret and Brenda knew exactly, perhaps better than most people, what secrets could do to someone.

They ate away at you.

Was that what was happening?

Brenda wasn't entirely sure.

The bigger the secret, the harder it is to keep. She knew that much and that thing with Raydor? Well, that was a whammy.

How did she end up like this?

Her bedroom felt incredibly small all of a sudden and even though she knew it was irrational, Brenda felt the walls closing in on her. What woman, what wife, nearly suffocated in her own bedroom? Who choked on the air they breathed?

She wanted to call Raydor.

It was a vicious cycle.

* * *

Her finger hovered over the key pad.

She had gotten very little sleep, her thoughts occupied by the Captain, the woman that made her not think at all when she was with her.

Trying to stay away didn't do her any good, Brenda had argued.

Raydor helped her in ways that no one could.

She felt pathetic after that, mortified at the prospect of needing Raydor for anything, let alone for her emotional well being. The Captain upset her more than she helped her on the best of days.

She wouldn't call.

Brenda put the receiver down and glanced at her watch.

Time was crawling.

She opened her candy drawer and sifted through the sea of shiny wrappers. She wanted to stuff her face.

Brenda picked the Twizzlers, not wanting to go overboard, especially after having that particular thought; she wouldn't stuff her face, she wouldn't pass out in her chair with a chocolate mustache.

That awful woman drove her insane!

Vicious, vicious, vicious!

If she called her, she would admit defeat. If she called her, she would go right back to being what had her so upset in the first place. It was time to drop it. Her marriage was more important.

Fritz was more important.

She loved him

She had married him.

He had no idea.

She shouldn't have told him about the kiss.

Brenda picked up the phone and started to dial Raydor's extension, satisfied that she had come to a decision.

"Chief…"

The blonde slammed the receiver down. "Yes?" She said and pushed her glasses up higher. "Yes, what is it, Detective?"

"Uh," Gabriel took note of her frazzled state, Brenda was very well aware yet showed no indication. "I located the old case files."

"Good, good, great…" She stuffed a Twizzler in her mouth.

"They'll be here within the hour."

The phone rang.

They both glanced at it.

"That's just what I wanted to hear, Detective."

"Don't you wanna get that?"

Brenda bit her top lip. "No," she said around a pout then the phone stopped. She smiled to cover her relief. "Anything else?"

David's eyebrows rose in mild amusement. "Nope."

"Good…good…" Her cell phone started vibrating. "Well, if that's all…"

The detective pressed his lips together, "I'll leave you to it then, Chief."

She nodded indignantly and couldn't pick up her phone quickly enough.

Captain Raydor.

That woman.

She had the most awful timing.

"One second," she said as she picked up. "Thank you, Detective…"

He nodded, his eyes sparkling as he closed the door.

"Captain." Brenda sighed.

"Chief."

"How can I help you?"

There was a pause, then, "_You_ called _me_."

"Oh, that's right," it occurred to the blonde right after which she felt her cheeks turn pink.

"I'm busy."

"Oh, I was just, I mean, I was just-"

"Busy, busy, busy."

"Dinner!" Brenda blurted then tried to compose herself. "Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

"Dinner?" Raydor repeated, her voice deep and husky.

"You suggested it."

She had indeed. "Just dinner?"

Brenda's expression turned sour. That woman was just insufferable sometimes. "That depends…"

"On what?"

"I thought you were busy, Cap'n?"

Raydor sighed on the other end, giving in. "Fine. Where?"

Brenda scoffed. "How would I know?"

Raydor hung up.

_She and her giant mouth._

The blonde blinked and stared at her phone for a moment then she felt the majority of her blood in her body rush to her head.

_Oooooh, that woman!_

She wished she could slam her cell phone down, or throw it even and hit the back of Detective Gabriel's very amused head.

Fine, she thought, her face turning unattractively red, fine, have it your way, Cap'n.

She tore a piece of a Twizzler off with her teeth and chewed while she navigated Google, because, contrary to popular believe, she knew how to operate a computer most of the time.

She pressed enter rather victoriously.

There.

Italian restaurants.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter Thirty-Three:**

Gimme a Shot of Red-Eye!

She wasn't even late but Brenda spotted Raydor sitting at the bar anyway. It almost felt like a déjà-vu seeing her with her legs crossed and on display, her hair shiny and just a bit curlier at the ends, a wine glass touching her lips and a high-heeled foot dangling in mid-air.

"Good evening, how can I help you?"

Brenda blinked and willed her eyes to focus on the man in front of her. "I've got reservations," she said absent-mindedly.

"Very well. Your name, please?"

The blonde swallowed quickly. "Raydor."

She had almost said Johnson on the phone and then she had wanted to say any other name than Raydor, like Jones or Smith or any such thing but out had come that one.

"Ah, yes. My apologies but your table will be ready for you in just a few moments. If you don't mind taking a seat at the bar?"

Brenda nodded, her eyes glued onto the woman sitting there, sipping. "Thank you," she mumbled and marched ahead, glancing around the room anxiously.

Perhaps it hadn't been the wisest idea to come here of all places but it was done now, Brenda figured yet couldn't help but hesitate. She was doing it again, she was being unfaithful, and it didn't matter that it was merely dinner, it didn't matter at all because underneath her little dress she was wearing lingerie.

And then she could smell the woman. Her sweet, crisp scent enveloping her like a warm and comfortable blanket.

"Hi…" She said as she approached and slid onto the bar stool next to Raydor.

The brunette traced the rim of her glass with the very tip of her finger as she glanced at her. "Brenda," she responded slowly with a lazy smile forming around her lips. "This is nice," she went on and then it occurred to the blonde that maybe Raydor was being sarcastic. "But it's a little bit close to work, don't you think?"

Brenda wanted to roll her eyes yet did no such thing. "It is," she said and hoped the bar tender would show up already.

Sharon let out a very short and condescending chuckle as her eyes roamed the place. "I've got a Provenza."

"What?" The blonde's eyes traced the room as well. "Where?"

The brunette held up her glass, a smirk firmly in place and took a sip. "Charietto del Garda, Provenza." Then she smiled. "I got the whole bottle," she almost whispered. "I've always loved the Provence."

Oh. Brenda glanced at the cooler that she had managed to completely overlook and realized that almost half of the bottle was gone and very likely to be inside Raydor.

Her Captain was tipsy.

"Rosé? You don't even like rosé." She lamented as if that mattered at all.

Raydor said nothing and poured another glass that she had so efficiently ordered then put it down delicately in front of Brenda. "You don't know what I like, Chief Johnson."

Brenda's eyebrows almost crawled off her forehead. "Really?" She asked like she would ask a little child.

The tip of Sharon's tongue appeared to touch the corner of her lips then disappeared. "…really."

The blonde picked up her glass upon catching a glimpse of the mischievous glint in her Captain's eyes and took a tentative sip. Crisp. Flowery. No significant ups and downs. Very drinkable. Very enjoyable. Going down very easily.

"You don't drink rosé," Brenda concluded and leaned in a little bit. "I know that you don't like Merlot. I know that you only ordered it because you knew that I like it." She breathed in a little, reveling in the woman's scent. "I know you like 'em zesty, succulent and tart."

Sharon narrowed her eyes in sheer amusement; the blonde felt suddenly rather satisfied for putting that particular expression on her Captain's face but then, as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone again and replaced by an indecipherable stare. "Hmm," Sharon hummed. "I do like tarts."

The blonde followed the Captain's line of sight right down to her own cleavage.

A bit of lace poked out from under her dress and, she figured, if Raydor's angle was just right, she had probably caught a glimpse of the rest as well.

Brenda leaned back, about to retort she didn't know what when, thankfully, the maître d' interrupted.

"Your table is ready, Ms. Raydor."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw her Captain's mouth fall open.

"Mrs." Brenda decided to say, yet again, and patted Sharon's arm, having to just get back at her one last time. "We're married." She showed off her ring.

"Oh," he said and looked from one to the other. "Well…"

"The table," Sharon interrupted scathingly.

"Of course."

Brenda bit her lip and didn't dare to glance at the woman, certain that her face would melt if she did.

"Your table…"

The blonde smiled at him and sat, putting her glass of wine down gently. "Thank you," she said, "thank you very much."

He nodded, smiling back almost an identical smile. "May I bring another bottle of the Charietto?"

"No, thank you," Sharon interrupted their little love fest with her mocking voice. "But I'd like a glass of the tartiest thing you've got."

His face fell.

"And a water for her," the Captain continued silkily. "She's driving."

"Very well," he almost bowed and left.

Brenda glared across the table at the decidedly cranky looking Captain Raydor. Now she really wished she had left her underwear at home and had gone to get Chinese takeout instead.

She and her giant mouth indeed, the blonde thought and tried to ignore the misery sitting across from her as she fished for her glasses.

"That was completely unnecessary," she couldn't help but comment.

Sharon merely squinted at the menu.

"And why am I drivin' anyhow?"

The brunette looked up. "You owe me."

Well then, Brenda thought and scowled, holding the menu further away then mumbled, "and if you dare order a salad again, I swear I'll get up and leave. God knows your mood's insufferable as it is…"

She heard Sharon inhale sharply and glower at her over the top of her own menu.

"It's not like you're doing anything to improve it."

Brenda huffed indignantly and closed her menu. "Just pick something for heaven's sakes." She pulled her glasses from her nose and handed them to Sharon.

There was silence until a new waiter served their drinks.

Brenda ordered pasta and Raydor ordered a salad.

She hated her.

But at least it included chicken, Brenda argued upon feeling bad for that particular thought, and it had penne it in.

Maybe she was one of those people who liked to 'eat light' in the evenings.

Brenda blinked; she hated her.

But then she knew that wasn't exactly true.

"Sharon?"

The brunette glanced at her over the rim of her wine glass.

"I…" The blonde overcame the sudden fear of sounding ridiculous. "I've…" What did she want to express anyway? Had she really been overcome by the incessant need to give voice to her emotions? To share them?

"I'm…glad," she settled on that, "I'm glad that I'm with you tonight."

The look of surprise on Sharon's face was subtle, but then again, Brenda mused, the woman was rather apt at not only controlling but also at concealing her emotions.

For a moment the blonde thought her Captain would brush her off, make some standoffish remark, give her that smirk and that superior look that she was so often on the receiving end of but she knew her Captain.

She wouldn't leave her hanging, not like this, not when it came to the thing they were having.

Brenda felt the woman's fingertips touch her wrist ever so softly and even though the look on Sharon's face was one of sour drops and lemon juice, and it almost killed her to say it out loud, she did say it in the end.

"Me too."

It sounded like a secret, the way she said it, but Brenda could live with that because for her it felt like a secret too.

She enjoyed the woman's presence.

But then again, Brenda back-tracked, 'enjoyed' was perhaps a bit farfetched but when she had told Fritz that they were friendly enough, she hadn't lied.

"Well," the blonde said exuberantly, "this is nice." She fiddled with her napkin and glanced at Raydor's décolleté. "I've never been here before." Perhaps the evening was still salvageable. "It sure smells delicious." Perhaps Sharon's mood would improve and they could do what they always did. "How's the wine?"

The Captain lifted her eyebrows and leaned across the table a bit, her creamy white and pliant breasts almost intentionally thrust out. "I know it's not like you but we don't really have to talk."

The blonde's face fell. "What's that s'posed to mean?"

"I have a headache."

"…probably all the wine you've been drinkin'."

"Now you're just being intentionally-"

The waiter appeared and Sharon cleared her throat.

He put the olives down.

"Look," Sharon said. "I've not shared a decent meal in god knows how long, not to mention the weeks it has been since I've seen the inside of a nice restaurant and the last thing a supposedly civilized person said to me today was a word that started with a 'c' and ended with an arrest."

She took a breath. "So, can you do me the huge favor of ignoring my bad temper and do what affairs are supposed to do?"

"And what's that?" Brenda wondered inanely.

Sharon's nails tapped the glass. "Make me feel good."

"Oh…"

"Yes," the brunette said and popped an olive in her mouth, "oh."

Brenda mulled it over for a good five seconds, her eyes roaming over her Captain and the attire she was wearing. "Well," she began conversationally. "You do look nice."

Sharon's gave her a slow nod. "Thank you."

"Dashing, really."

"Dashing?"

"I mean beautiful…or very, um, very-"

"You could have left it at nice."

The blonde pursed her lips and stared at the olives; she couldn't do anything right these days. She was ruining things with Fritz, she was making things difficult for herself at work, she had manipulated Will – she did do it on a daily basis but usually she didn't use his feelings for her against him – and now, to top it off, she wasn't even good at having an affair anymore.

It had all flowed so wonderfully.

At least until they had to make actual conversation.

"We should've never gone out to dinner together," she sing-songed somewhat under her breath yet intentionally loud enough for Sharon to hear.

"You asked me!"

"But it was you that suggested it first!"

Sharon sighed, resigned and knocked back the last of her wine. "We really do not get along," she said after she had swallowed.

"No…we don't."

"And that's probably for the best."

Brenda looked up at that, startled by the comment for some reason. "I don't know why…" She said after a moment.

"Why what?"

The blonde licked her lip and shook her head, embarrassed for having spoken her thought out loud.

"What is it?" Sharon prodded quietly, reaching across the table for Brenda's hand before she seemed to catch herself doing it and retreated.

Brenda put a smile on and shook her head, trying to wipe away the last remnants of what she assumed to be an expression of dread from her features. "It's just-"

"The Caesar Salad…" A waiter interrupted, putting the plate down over Sharon's right shoulder.

"Thank you," the brunette mumbled, sighing.

"…and the pasta."

Brenda stared down at the dish, suddenly overcome with a sort of maudlin melancholy. "Fritz left," she said and looked up, wanting to know, wanting to see the truth with her own eyes.

Sharon stared back at her.

Nothing, the blonde wondered.

No one, not even the most expert liar could mask their emotions fully, could lie without a giveaway.

But there was nothing.

Perhaps the Wicked Witch didn't feel a thing.

Brenda swallowed, her eyes trailing back to her plate when she caught a glimpse of movement – Sharon's thumb, quite unintentionally, rubbed along her ring finger.

"He left for some silly assignment in San Diego," the blonde continued, satisfied that she had gotten something out of the Captain even though she had no clue what it meant. Perhaps severe guilt, she mused as she saw the slightly less masked expression of relief.

The blonde glanced at her food that remained untouched on her plate and wondered why she suddenly felt the need to share and, to make matters worse, why she had to unload her emotional baggage onto the woman she shared nothing but two things with – sex and policing.

Nonetheless, her mouth spilled the details. "He's mad at me," she said, thinking of that one time Will had turned her away when she had blurted out she might be pregnant. "We've been fightin'."

She shouldn't look for validation in inappropriate places and she shouldn't confide in people whenever she felt like it which clearly wasn't often.

Spilling her guts just wasn't something Brenda did, just like her daddy who, once upon a time, would have rather died than use the words 'I' and 'feel' in the same sentence.

"We've been fightin' about you."

"Me?" Sharon queried with raised eyebrows, momentarily lowering her fork.

Brenda picked her own up and stabbed into a noodle. "He's still upset about the whole thing…" She glanced at Raydor from beneath her eyelashes. "The kiss," she clarified in a hushed tone.

"You shouldn't have told him," Sharon replied flatly, stating the obvious. "It's hard to get over something like that," she added with a steely expression.

"Aren't you supposed to be on my side?"

The brunette lifted an eyebrow. "Honey, I don't know how you conduct affairs where you're from but I'm most definitely on my side."

Brenda seethed. "First of all, I don't appreciate being 'honey-ed' and secondly, you don't get to belittle me." She forked four whole noodles on her fork out of sheer rage and pointed the loaded weapon at the Captain. "I don't know how you conduct affairs where you're from, Sharon, but what you're doin' is just as much cheating as what I'm doin'."

There.

The blonde swallowed convulsively.

She was a cheater. A liar.

Reprehensible.

"Well," Sharon said suddenly in her humorous but not really genuinely so voice. "Congratulations, Brenda. We've finally arrived on the same page."

The blonde wanted to retort but thought better of it, instead she ate her pasta.

At least the food was good – she congratulated herself.

"We shouldn't do this again. Ever."

Brenda nodded solemnly. "Fine with me…"

* * *

"My car's down there…in the car park."

Sharon exhaled noisily. "I need some files I left in mine, it's just up there."

"I'll go with you," Brenda announced in an uncharacteristic display of misplaced chivalry seeing as her Captain had almost single-handedly consumed a whole bottle of wine.

"I can find my own car, Chief."

Back to that then, as if stepping out of the restaurant had somehow ended the fantasy because that was what it was, wasn't it? A mere fantasy, the idea of leading a different life, of being someone else.

"I know that," the blonde lamented, "I just…feel in the mood for a walk."

Raydor lifted a disbelieving eyebrow at her and started walking, Brenda followed.

The night had been a total failure, she mused, staring at the Captain's legs. She shouldn't try to do anything even remotely resembling dating the woman in the future. It was a waste of time, clearly, because they hardly got along and barely had anything to talk about besides work and that topic was just out of the question since the whole point of this affair was to quit thinking of such.

"There it is," Sharon said evenly and unlocked it. "This'll just take a second."

Of course, Brenda pursed her lips in sheer boredom, having enough of this without the prospect of sex.

That sounded awful, she realized. Was she that superficial? Was she that egoistical?

But then again, it wasn't like her Captain particularly enjoyed her company.

Brenda's eyes wandered back to Sharon's legs, now more exposed due to her somewhat compromising position – rummaging around the backseat, behind stuck up in the air, skirt riding up.

The blonde swallowed.

What was it about that woman?

Brenda suspected it were the skirts most of the times. They were very appropriately long – no knee, not even a hint of a thigh – and they looked so prim and proper that the blonde couldn't help but want to rip them apart.

Less was more…less skin was more.

"Are you going to behave or do I have to call a cab?"

The blonde blinked. "Very funny, Cap'n."

"I'm ready," Sharon went on without a hitch. "Let's go."

Brenda followed, mimicking her behind her back.

Who was she to order her around like that anyhow?

That woman thought she was the boss of everyone.

"Captain."

"Yes?" Sharon turned.

And then Brenda just kissed her, up against a chain link fence. That woman deserved it, she thought and dug her fingers into her hips.

"That was completely unnecessary," Sharon said gravelly as their lips parted.

"Oh it was, Cap'n Raydor, but I did it anyway." Brenda marched ahead then heard the click and clack of Sharon's heels behind her.

"You know it's not my fault that tonight was a disaster!"

"Disaster?" Brenda's expression soured.

"You asked me!"

"Only because you suggested it!"

Sharon scoffed.

"Why did you want to do this anyhow?" The question had been on Brenda's mind all evening. There were a lot of things she did not understand, a lot of things she didn't know about her Captain and never wanted to find out but, even though she was afraid of the answer, she had to know this.

"I thought we could be friendly," Sharon retorted which was only half the truth.

Brenda stopped and turned. "What the heck are you tryin' to do?"

"I'm not trying to do anything – what are you doing?"

"Me? It's not me who pursued this whole dinner idea!"

"I was just trying to understand why," Sharon admitted and this time it was the truth.

"Why what?" Brenda questioned immediately, hoping that her Captain had it all figured out for them both.

"Why you. Why in the world I would be this…this…"

"Attracted," Brenda supplied.

"Yes. That…" Sharon swallowed the awful taste of the word.

"And?"

"Nothing." She lied. "Where is your car?"

Brenda sighed. "Over there."

Sharon breezed past her.

Wonderful. Just wonderful. She wasn't only ruining her marriage, now she was also ruining her affair.

The one thing that kept her sane.

It was, wasn't it?

Who cared about the why?

Brenda trailed Sharon's progress across the parking lot toward her car.

"When we're together, I don't think about anything but you!"

The brunette stopped and, after a moment of hesitation, she turned around. "What is that supposed to mean," she asked fearlessly.

The blonde shook her head and came closer, feeling oddly unlike herself. "You take over every thought I have and you make everythin' else just…go away."

"That sounds awfully romantic," Sharon mocked, leaning against the car with her arms crossed and the files as a protective shield.

"That's not how I meant it," Brenda replied scathingly.

The Captain tilted her head and nodded solemnly. "I know what you meant," she admitted. "The feeling is mutual."

Brenda nodded, once. "Then let's not do this anymore. Let's not try to get to know each other too much."

"Okay," Sharon agreed readily. "That's fine with me."

Brenda smiled and breathed a sigh of relief just before she felt that twinge of sadness coming over her.

She never knew what she wanted, the blonde mused, Fritz was right about that. Was she actually keen on learning every detail about her Captain's life?

Surely not. The thought more than terrified her.

But that was the thing, wasn't it? She had always been the worst chickenshit.

She didn't want to learn every detail, there was no reason for that, they weren't dating but, Brenda glanced at the woman in the passenger seat, but she would have perhaps enjoyed unveiling some of the mysteries surrounding her Captain Raydor.

"Take a right on Figueroa."

"But," Brenda blinked as they left the parking lot. "It's straight ahead for Burns Park."

"Thank you very much, Chief Johnson, I know how to get to my own house," Sharon retorted. "Now. Take a right."

The blonde's lips thinned in frustration yet she couldn't help but revel in their otherness, their bickering and banter. It was who they were, at least on the surface, always on the surface and never digging any deeper.

She wondered what demons Sharon was fighting.

"So," Brenda glanced across again, "Where are we goin'?"

The brunette turned and looked at her with a small, easy smile on her lips. "The Mountain Bar."

The blonde grinned.

All was good.

~TBC~


	34. Chapter 34

**Author's Note:**I just wanted to thank everyone for their lovely comments. I read and treasure them all!

**Chapter Thirty-Four:**

Un Dubonnet, s'il vous plaît!

They had left together plenty of times but this would be the first time they set foot into the Mountain Bar, 'their place', together.

Of course, this time, they would leave as a pair as well – the mere idea sent a shiver down Brenda's spine. As they stepped into the red light, the blonde's gaze wandered over the crowd, searching for a familiar face.

There was none and, chancing a glance at her Captain, she found that the woman had done the same. Their gazes met for a moment and Raydor gave her a pleased and somewhat anticipatory look.

They had arrived in their safe haven, Brenda mused, wondering quite hopefully that the night wouldn't end with a mere kiss. It would be an utter waste with Fritz being away and the Captain slightly tipsy.

Did that make her a bad person? Wanting to get another drink down the woman's throat?

"Drinks on me," she said before she could dwell on it.

"Great," Sharon said exuberantly. "Let's sit at the bar."

Brenda lifted her eyebrows, unimpressed by the Captain's sudden perkiness.

"D'you really wanna sit in plain sight of ev'ryone?" The blonde drawled. "What if your Sergeant Elliott walked right in here?"

The Captain smirked. "I'm supposed to be the stick in the mud."

Brenda allowed a small smile to form on her lips. "Let's get you another drink then…"

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Chief Johnson?" Sharon drawled from right behind her on their way to the bar.

"Now why would I wanna do that?" Brenda leaned against the bar top, having found a little space between two patrons. "And Captain," she went on, turning a little. "You're anything but."

The pair caught the attention of the barkeeper, who approached them with a towel in his hands. "What can I get you, ladies?"

"A Manhattan," Brenda said loudly before her Captain could order. "And…" She had to drive, didn't she. "A Shirley Temple."

Sharon snorted, something she didn't merely do when she was tipsy but rather when she was genuinely amused.

"You got it," the bartend said and winked.

"A Manhattan?"

Brenda turned, offering her body up to the Captain's eyes then reached out for the woman and touched a strand of her hair. "You're my scarlet woman tonight…"

"Hmm," Raydor hummed, a strange look crossing her features before she leaned in again and whispered over the music, "That's nice."

Sharon narrowed her eyes in irritation at her poor choice of words. She recovered her composure, as she always did, her eyes twinkling with a genuine smile and then she said, honestly and with a conspiratory glint, "Never been anyone's scarlet woman before..."

It sounded silly, didn't it?

Brenda smiled bashfully then bit her lip.

Her Captain...

"There you go!"

Their drinks had arrived.

It wasn't long before Brenda stared at Raydor's shapely behind as they navigated towards a table, drinks in hand.

She wore those little skirts so well. Not the ones she had on at work - no, no, these were different. Tighter, shinier, more expensive...sexier - Brenda swallowed - she wanted to-

"Let's sit over there." Sharon decided and caught the look on Brenda's face.

The blonde breezed past her nonchalantly - after all, her Captain wasn't wearing those things for no reason. She wanted Brenda to think those things. Didn't she?

"You're the worst."

"S'cuse me?" Brenda slid onto her stool, eyebrows raised.

"Your little routine," Sharon gestured at her vaguely. "Can't fool me."

The blonde tried not to smirk as her Captain managed to sit as well. "Routine?"

"Wide-eyed little Georgia girl?" Sharon picked up her drink and took a sip, her dark red lipstick mingling with the color of her drink. "You're the worst," she repeated pointedly, narrowing her eyes.

Brenda suddenly felt scrutinized.

"Just thought I should make that clear."

Make what clear?

"I think it's the thing that's most attractive about you." Sharon had picked the cherry out of her drink and plucked it from its stem with her teeth. "I always pick the worst."

Brenda held her breath, terrified, once again wishing she could unhear all this. They had agreed upon not getting to know each other a mere half an hour ago and here she was, her Captain Raydor, tipsy and blabbing about the most intimate details of her life.

"Sharon-"

"Look," Raydor slid closer, a serious expression on her face. "I want this."

Brenda nodded slowly. "Me too," she admitted. "It's bad...but I do."

Sharon smiled. "It's bad," she agreed and placed her hand on the blonde's knee. "So..." The brunette drawled uncharacteristically. "You said you've never..."

"Nope," Brenda admitted, her cheeks turning slightly pink. "I've never done this before."

"Hmm," Sharon hummed yet again and nipped on her drink.

And..? The blonde leaned forward in anticipation but her Captain said nothing. That woman.

"Why now?"

Brenda scoffed. "When has this become an interrogation," she lifted her finger, "and don't deny it, I know better than anyone what is and what isn't one."

"You asked me," Sharon said, "You wanted to know what I'm getting out of this, I was just wondering the same thing about you."

Point taken. Brenda pursed her lips, feeling decidedly uncomfortable and very aware of the fact that it was plainly visible. "It's not like you ever answered the damn question, Captain."

Sharon's eyes wandered about the room, her lips in a pout. "I've never done this before either," she said which sounded almost like a declaration. "I can't really answer the question."

"Well that's just precious."

"Oh, so you know why you're here, right now, with me?"

"I do! I do so!"

"Really?"

"I just need it," Brenda blurted out then clamped her mouth shut.

Sharon nodded, once, her lips parted and then, after a brief moment, she said, "I think I may be a lesbian."

Brenda's jaw dropped and her eyes almost fell out of their sockets. "Wha-"

"I think I'm pretty sure...actually."

'Actually', Brenda concluded, was a lie, it almost always was.

"You cannot tell anyone about this." Sharon shifted in her seat and took a swig of her drink. "I've only fully comprehended this now. I mean, I've wondered...but I've refused to believe...and then you came along..."

"Why are you tellin' me all that?" Brenda screeched, scandalized.

"Who else am I supposed to tell it?"

"I dunno," the blonde felt her head hurt. "Surely you've got some little friend you can talk to, someone with a little power suit on like yourself...and not me."

Sharon sighed and knocked back her drink. "I'd like to go home now..." She stood as soon as the words had passed her lips. "Please."

* * *

There was no hotel tonight. There were no more lingering glances. No more games to be played.

Brenda had thought it impossible to offend the Wicked Witch yet here she was catching frostbite in the icy silence that engulfed them.

So that's what all this was about, the blonde couldn't help but think. Raydor was a closeted lesbian and what she truly got out of this was a bit more self-awareness. Not that Brenda could judge her, she had to admit regretfully, she wasn't one to be terribly aware of her own emotions herself.

Fritz had accused her of that numerous times...as had her ex-husband...and her boyfriend in college. Will had never mentioned it. Perhaps he had the self-awareness of a 2x4 and a slightly inflated ego.

Not that Raydor wasn't suffering of the very same ailment seeing as her ego was the size of Texas.

Perhaps...only perhaps the same could be said for her...or couldn't it, Brenda wondered glumly. Perhaps she was a bit unreasonable at times and perhaps she always demanded to get the things she wanted but that was only because she was usually right or else she wouldn't demand such things in the first place.

The blonde glanced at her passenger who refused to look at anything but the world fly by. She hadn't stopped staring out of the window from the moment they had left.

Brenda swallowed convulsively, feeling something end, feeling something slip away.

All good things must come to an end, her Mama had said.

Was this truly a good thing though?

Bad. Wasn't it?

Bad she did feel all of a sudden. She hadn't realized she cared about her Captain's feelings.

"Sharon..."

"I shouldn't have said anything," the brunette said before Brenda could go on. "It was stupid."

Stupid. Brenda glanced at her, realizing that the woman had sobered up considerably. "It wasn't-"

"It was." Sharon said with finality. "I don't want to talk about it again...ever. Is that clear?"

The blonde merely nodded to herself.

So this was it.

"Maybe I shouldn't have bought you that drink after all," she tried a joke but received no response beside a scathing glare from the passenger seat.

Wonderful. This whole night had turned out to be a disaster and it left Brenda wondering whether or not they would carry on their little affair. Her Captain seemed suitably embarrassed.

She was also oozing anger.

Brenda was about ready to cry. Stupid woman! Why had she not kept her mouth shut about this whole business?

The blonde felt a hot flush come over her as they turned onto Sharon's street.

What now?

What if this had been the last time?

She couldn't just let it go...let her Captain go, could she?

She needed this too much.

She would die without it!

Brenda's heart raced.

What now?

What now?

"Sharon."

"This is it...stop the car, please."

"I know, I know but listen-"

Raydor had already unbuckled her seat belt.

"Sharon-"

"Goodnight."

"But-"

The car door slammed and she was gone.

Brenda wanted to pull her own hair out. She had to be the most frustrating individual she had ever met.

Oh, no, Brenda wailed on the inside, she was gone.

The blonde's eyes fell onto a stack of files sitting in the backseat.

Before her brain could even register what she was doing, Brenda had grabbed the whole stack and was hurriedly following her Captain up the steps to her home.

"Sharon!"

"Go home, Brenda." Raydor said, unlocking the door.

"Just-just hold on one minute," the blonde said with a sudden anger. "I..."

"Yes?" Sharon prompted, turning around. "What is it?"

"You can't just go like that."

"I can and I will. This was a bad idea. Perhaps the biggest mistake I've ever-"

"I need you," Brenda said, frantically trying to convince her Captain. "I know...I know I've never made that clear but I do need you and you can't just end it like that. You just can't."

Sharon sighed and rubbed her eyebrow. "What are we doing?"

"I don't know," Brenda replied feebly. "But I just need this too much..."

The brunette rolled her eyes. "You do have a flair for the dramatic."

"Would you stop it?" The blonde shoved the files into her arms. "What is wrong with you? Why does this have to be so difficult?"

"You mean, why do I have to be so difficult?" Sharon leaned against the door frame. "It's not the first time I've been asked that."

Brenda's expression turned decidedly sour. "Why are you doin' that again?"

"What? Divulge personal details?" Sharon retorted. "That's what happens when two people get involved with one another and," she said loudly before Brenda could launch into a diatribe. "That's what we are: involved. I know what I said earlier but it was stupid of me to think that we could just sleep with each other and then walk away."

Sharon took a breath. "I wish we could but that's just not how it works, Brenda."

With that she slipped inside and slammed the door shut and left the blonde standing there.

Brenda nibbled on her lower lip, having slammed the door in several faces yet never having been on the receiving end like this.

"Sharon?" The blonde leaned closer to the door. Nothing.

Well then...

Brenda turned slowly. "Um..." She couldn't help but go back, trying to be that decent Georgia girl, remembering her manners. "I'm sorry...about earlier."

With that she turned once more and started slowly down the steps.

"For god's sake!"

The blonde almost fell down the last steps as the even voice rang out in the night.

"You don't even know what you're apologizing for!"

Brenda nibbled on her lip, staring at the lone figure standing in the doorway. "I was bein' terribly insensitive."

"Ha!" Sharon let out a laugh. "Insensitive?" Her expression hardened. "Don't be ridiculous."

"For heaven's sakes, Sharon!" The blonde hurried up the steps yet again, coming face to face with the woman. "What the...**heck** is your problem?"

The Captain stared back at her, trying to maintain her hardened features but then her face fell rather unexpectedly and the brunette shook her head, defeated.

"I've had a very tiring day at work." She sighed and Brenda felt them inch closer. "I've had too much to drink and-"

"Let's just forget about all this," the blonde interrupted, not keen on having this whole conversation to begin with yet reluctant to just leave and hope for the best. "Let's just not mention-"

"Would you like to come in?"

"Inside?" Brenda asked with a slightly higher voice than usual. "In your house?"

Sharon avoided her gaze and reached for her hand instead, lacing their fingers together. "Yes...in my house."

"Hmm," Brenda hummed, feigning nonchalance. "Well, I don't know 'bout that, Cap'n Raydor b'cause you've been rather unpleasant tonight and I'm just not sure I like bein' treated like one of your underlings."

"I can assure you, Chief Johnson," she smirked a little. "You're the only one I treat like this."

Brenda couldn't help but smile yet tried to hide it somewhat. "How nice..." She took a cleansing breath, hoping that this would be the end of it, all that silliness.

She looked into Sharon's eyes, hopeful that the look in them was gone and that the woman was back to her old self...whoever that was, Brenda added mentally and sighed in relief.

Perhaps it had been the alcohol talking. Perhaps her Captain had had a horrendous day at work. Perhaps she couldn't help but make somebody else miserable as well.

Perhaps none of that mattered.

Not even that little tidbit of information because, Brenda thought with a clear head for the first time in ages, because why else would Raydor be sleeping with her?

At least the Captain had it all figured out for herself.

Not that Brenda needed any help, she decided as she let herself be pulled into the house.

She knew exactly who she was.


	35. Chapter 35

**Author's Note:**I just wanted to thank everyone for their lovely comments. I read and treasure them all!

**Chapter Thirty-Five:**

Practice Random Kindness...

All was forgotten and everything was as it had always been.

The electrifying, heavy heat in the air that reminded Brenda of a late Georgia summer night. The prickly, hot/cold sensation of sweat on her skin. That scent, so familiar yet foreign, that it almost robbed her of the last shred of sense she had left.

The feel of the woman's body pressed up against her own. The fabric of her skirt fisted in Brenda's hand. The contours of her breasts straining against her expensive blouse.

The clicking of her heels as she stumbled backward and hit the wall.

The little sounds and sighs tumbling from her lips as Brenda touched and squeezed and kissed.

Sharon Raydor was a hot mess, a mysterious, sinfully alluring creature begging to be unwrapped, unveiled and undone all over again.

Her skin tasted slightly salty, with a hint of perfume and smelled of wine and something deeply intimate and warm that Brenda couldn't help but bury her nose in the woman's hair and breathe her in.

It was an addiction. She couldn't stop, she didn't want to at that point - Sharon Raydor was her undoing, her downfall yet the one thing that made her feel the best she had ever felt - numb yet full of life.

"Hurry," Sharon whispered hoarsely and started unbuttoning her own blouse.

Brenda kissed her, she didn't care about the blouse, and pulled the zipper of the tight skirt down. The blonde dimly wondered where the bedroom was or if Sharon wanted her to do her right there in the hallway but she couldn't manage to tear her lips away for long enough to voice her thoughts.

Then the blouse fell open and hung loosely on Sharon's frame, her creamy skin shining in the dim light - Brenda barely took notice but instead felt the woman's nimble fingers grab her wrist and place her hand quite unashamedly on her breast.

The blonde squeezed it through the lacy bra, not that she had time to dwell on it but she thought this particularly flimsy piece of clothing didn't find its way onto the woman's body just to be hidden away during an innocent little dinner.

She reveled in the way the pliant flesh felt in her hand, how she could feel Sharon's nipple harden; it was glorious and sexy and the mere notion of never being able to do this again, to feel it again, made Brenda break out into a cold sweat.

"What is it?" Sharon had torn her lips away, her lipstick smeared.

Brenda stared at it for a moment then focused her eyes on Sharon's. "Where's your bedroom?"

She heard the woman swallow audibly and there was an unbearable silence then she said, "Down the hall."

The blonde couldn't help but stare down the dark hallway and pulled back, giving the woman room to maneuver.

The skirt still clung to her hips, too tight to flutter to the floor but Brenda didn't mind at all, she was content to see the very tips of lace as she followed the woman, holding her hand, down the hall.

Sharon didn't close the bedroom door, she didn't say anything as they approached the bed, she didn't seem particularly pleased with the idea of having sex in it...with Brenda, perhaps...but she had insisted, she had said that sex without some kind of intimacy was unheard of, at least in her world.

So Brenda took off her blouse, pulled it from her arms as she kissed the woman then gently, not to push her or, god forbid, make her, she steered her Captain towards the bed where she sat as it hit the back of her knees.

The blonde knelt with a smirk as she saw a look cross Sharon's face - she remembered that night, the night her little fantasy had been fulfilled.

Brenda took off one high-heeled shoe and sat it down quietly under Sharon's watchful gaze.

"You're the worst," the blonde said, secretly amused.

Sharon smirked. "S'cuse me?"

"Your little routine..." Brenda drawled with the thickest possible accent. "Can't fool me."

"And what routine might that be," the brunette wondered as her second shoe was placed on the floor.

"Oh," Brenda breathed and reached for the skirt. "That uppity, holier than thou routine." She leaned in, pulling the skirt down. "We both know you like all those terrible, terrible things I do to you."

Sharon's eyes gleamed as their breaths mingled and their lips were only inches apart. "Terribly, terribly wonderful things..."

The blonde smiled a little. "My..." She didn't know what to say so instead she just kissed the woman again.

Not that she could ever get enough of that.

"Now," Sharon tore her lips away again. "I'd really like to see that tarty thing you're wearing under that dress."

Brenda glanced down at her cleavage and that tiny bit of lace poking out on the right and it came back to her, the shopping trip and how she hadn't been able to help herself and bought it.

"Oh, that," she said very innocently, standing up.

"Yes...that," Sharon all but husked.

Brenda bit her lip, suddenly embarrassed. "That's my little gift for you," she announced.

"Gift, for me?"

"Um...yes."

Sharon made a surprised sound in the back of her throat, her eyes glued to Brenda's breasts. "Well..."

The blonde took a deep breath and realized she was considerably expanding her cleavage.

Oh, to hell with it. She should own her decisions, shouldn't she? Brenda reached for the zipper of her dress and pulled it down without further ado but before she could pull the straps down as well, Sharon had reached out and did it for her.

She did it slowly, mesmerized not only by the fabric but also by Brenda's revelation.

A gift, for her - yes, the blonde gloated inwardly, she was a smart cookie.

But, she had to admit, the marvelous look on Sharon's face, the sheer desire in her eyes, her quickened breath, betraying her arousal, was exactly what Brenda had hoped the woman's reaction would be.

Her dress fell to the floor, finally, and there she stood in her expensive lingerie.

Sharon stared, surprised.

Then her gaze changed and she did what Brenda expected her to do - she marveled at the exquisite piece of artfully crafted lingerie.

At her.

The brunette's hands settled gently onto her hips; Brenda could feel Sharon's breath ghosting over her stomach, a kiss being placed onto her rib cage.

"You like it?" The blonde asked, not daring to look down and finally realizing the implications of all this.

"Hmm," Sharon hummed against her skin, drawing her closer. "It's perfect."

She felt the woman smile.

Well then...Brenda grinned to herself, pleased with this new development in their relationship.

As she combed her fingers through Sharon's thick, luscious hair, and pushed her back onto the bed, Brenda thought that a little intimacy wasn't so bad after all.

She had always wondered about her Captain Raydor, throughout all their courtship - if you could call it that - she had wondered what was so carefully hidden away behind this so put together facade.

Sharon was a rather classy lady, Brenda thought even though the notion of calling her Captain a lady while she was sticking her hand into the woman's panties seemed somewhat wrong.

But she liked it like that, didn't she?

Wrong.

Because it felt like the completely right thing to do.

Like getting into an argument with the woman when she had had the worst day at work.

Like charming and sweet-southern-talkin' her way into the house and ultimately into Sharon's bed even though her Cap'n had provided her with an easy way out.

Wrong seemed right, especially whenever she managed to get into the woman's pants.

Brenda suppressed a pleased smile at realizing that she had, once again, utterly won. She quite liked it when that happened, even more so than her Captain who always gloated.

But then again, the blonde thought and stared into Sharon's eyes, she did envy her sometimes, her Cap'n Raydor. She seemed to be able to completely surrender to whatever Brenda was doing to her.

It seemed unfair.

How could she, after all this time?

It occurred to Brenda that Sharon, in all her half-naked, blissfully calm and ooh-ing and ahh-ing state, had the true upper hand.

"Don't tease," the brunette murmured suddenly and hooked a leg over Brenda's hips.

The blonde released her full weight onto the woman, their lace encased breasts pressed together, creating an ample display of equally gorgeous creamy white, pliant flesh.

"Then don't try 'n make me do things your way, why don't ya?" Brenda pulled her hand away, her fingertips covered in silky wetness.

Sharon narrowed her eyes at her, not moving a limb out of sheer stubbornness. "You get off on power, don't you?"

"We both know that's not true," Brenda retorted silkily and reached for the woman's knee, leaning in to whisper, "But you get off on bein' over-powered, isn't that so?" She pushed her Captain's legs apart and dragged her lips across the woman's cheek.

"I've been known to be an excellent observer," the blonde said and leaned in for a kiss. Brenda did love to kiss her, she had to admit to herself, her Captain was good at it and the blonde melted at the molten heat they generated, at the slow, deep, languid connection they formed in those brief instances.

Sharon opened her eyes as their lips separated and stared at her for a moment, flushed. "You're an excellent manipulator."

Brenda's eyes gleamed yet she managed to suppress the smirk while she pushed her hand back into the woman's panties. "Same thing," she said evenly as the tip of her finger glided over hot wetness and silky soft skin.

"I know what you want." She pushed her finger inside as slow as humanly possible. "I know exactly what you want."

Sharon squeezed her eyes shut, a strangled moan escaping her lips unwittingly.

"See?" Brenda breathed, observing, recording every emotion crossing her Captain's features. "That's what you want." She pushed into the woman with a second finger, slow again, conveying her power, her strength with that simple act and knowing that her Captain secretly loved every second of her rather falsely projected superiority.

"You can never tell anyone about this," Brenda pushed up onto her hand, hovering over the woman. "That this is what you get off on 'cause what would people think of you then?"

The blonde gleefully stared as her Captain turned her head sideways and covered her eyes with her own arm flung across her face.

Brenda was reading her mind, fully aware that she wasn't revealing anything her Captain hadn't let her in on already one way or another but knowing full well that the game was on and that Sharon waited for her to push the boundaries.

"They'd think you're a fraud," the blonde went on, moving her fingers finally, unable to help herself, really, because she truly and utterly loved where they were and how it felt.

Yet another thing, Brenda concluded, that she had to admit.

Then, because such a silly revelation did bother her in the end - that she loved to fuck women, or this one, rather and not that she would ever use that word to describe what she was doing - but because it did bother her, Brenda thrust into the woman with her full weight, hoping it would at least sting a little.

She could tell it did but knew that her Captain liked that too.

"Complete fraud," Brenda concluded, looking down at the woman, chest thrust out, mouth open in a silent cry. "Prancin' about in your little suits, callin' your partners misogynists..."

Sharon groaned.

"All tough on the outside..." Brenda pushed the heel of her hand down, right where the brunette needed it. "While on the inside you don't mind bein' bent over by your superior officer."

Sharon inhaled shakily, her arm flopping onto the mattress as her eyes slowly opened. She smiled - to Brenda's surprise it was that barely-there, superior little smirk.

"You know me too well, Brenda."

The blonde felt a sudden rage bubble up within herself.

She did know a good amount of rather intimate details - details she had not asked for yet there they were.

Brenda felt the dizzying sensation of a cold sweat across her skin, a white, hot desire for the woman overtake her and a startlingly intense arousal strike her sex like a bolt of lightning.

The blonde realized how wet she was, how utterly in need she was for her Captain and that touching the woman as much as she wanted, however and wherever she wanted, wasn't even close to enough to quench that all-consuming desire within her very core.

Oh, that woman!

"I know exactly what you want," Sharon said with a quaver in her voice, the palm of her hand trailing down Brenda's spine, down to the small of her back and into her underwear. "Now. Don't tease," she whispered, squeezing a cheek. "And I won't."

Brenda swallowed, her breathing suddenly out of control, her nostrils flaring.

She stared, defiant, feeling the Captain's fingernails dig into her butt.

"Take off your bra," she said, a last attempt.

Sharon smiled and, instead of taking off anything, she reached for the clasp of Brenda's bra. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

The blonde, a contrite expression on her face, fingers stilled, didn't protest as she felt the clasp give way but was, at the same time, gleefully aware of the fact that she had to withdraw from within the woman.

Sharon sighed as the bra came loose, as Brenda's breasts spilled out of the cups and into her hands. She pulled the straps over the blonde's shoulders, hissed as her fingers moved unceremoniously and without regard to her personal comfort.

Brenda couldn't care less.

The bra came off and landed somewhere on the floor. Without any further protest, her Captain offered herself, giving Brenda room to undo the clasp of her own bra and pull the fabric from her body, unveiling the woman's breasts.

They were just right, the blonde thought as she looked at them, nipples hard and rosy pink from arousal, looking as if a mere touch could undo her Captain - it was tempting but she restrained herself.

Brenda lowered her body, feeling her Captain's hot arousal against her thigh through the flimsy fabric of her panties, her taught stomach against her own, the softness of her breasts and the hardness of her nipples creating a stark contrast against her skin.

Now, flush against the woman, Brenda felt her insides melt. She lowered her lips and was met by her Captain's eager mouth.

"Don't tease," Sharon mumbled against her lips. "You know what I want."

Indeed she did.

Brenda reached between them, sweat making their bodies stick together as their intertwined limbs separated, and pulled at the woman's panties, yanking them down.

They came off and Brenda pressed her fingertips against her Captain's clit.

She was slick with arousal and hot, Brenda was always startled by how warm Sharon was. It made her tingle and she could feel it, how it sparked her own arousal to let her fingers glide through the ample wetness.

Sex with her Captain seemed natural.

Animalistic even.

Brenda couldn't help but think that Sharon brought out something in her that the blonde had thought she had lost.

That wild, reckless being she now was only at work.

As pretty much every woman, Brenda had eventually learned to be careful with her feelings, with her body...

Yet here she was, recklessly pushing her fingers inside Sharon Raydor, filling her completely and as deeply as she possibly could, and relishing in how she felt, how she smelled and sounded, and committing herself with abandon to having hard, wild, reckless sex with the woman.

Sharon exhaled against her lips, her nails digging into Brenda's skin again, trying to draw her closer then she reached between their bodies, urgently pushing her way between Brenda's legs.

The blonde breathed heavily against Sharon's temple, in and out, squeezing her eyes shut and moving her hips against the fingers, ready too soon and desperate for release, for all this tension, this unbearable want to go away for at least this tiny moment.

"Yes," Brenda hissed. "Sharon..."

"Yes..." Her Captain confirmed, whispering the word into her neck like a confession.

Brenda pried her eyes open as she felt a wave approach, gigantic, like a tsunami. She pushed herself up a bit, just enough and stared at the woman, saw the sweat glistening on her skin, hooded eyes staring back at her, dilated in arousal.

She couldn't take it, the mere sight was enough, how her Captain breathed, how she looked on the very verge of coming, how she felt on the inside, wet, and hot, slick with want, tightening around her fingers.

"Oh," Brenda exclaimed, surprised at the hot flash overcoming her. "No..." Not yet.

But Sharon said, "Yes." Now.

And there she was, her want for the woman, her naked desire for her, her unbearable need for her accumulating in this, a wave of arousal, of light-headedness, of unimaginable release washing over her and drowning her in mind-numbing pleasure.

Amidst it was the sensation of pain as her Captain pulled her hair, the sound of her voice, rough and strangled, the feel of her core enveloping her fingers, clenching tightly for the longest time, her hips pushing hard against her hand and then, one word, "Brenda...", whispered, drawn out and fading as the woman came with her, against her, trembling, sweating, moaning.

They gasped against each others lips, moved into each other to draw out the very last bit of pleasure, their sticky, spent bodies tingling until silence descended upon them and their skin started to cool.

Sharon moved first, she withdrew her hand, fisted the blanket with it and pulled as much of it as she could over them.

Brenda sighed and laid down beside her, her face buried in waves upon waves of hair.

"That was exactly what I needed," Sharon murmured lazily.

Brenda just nodded and closed her eyes.


	36. Chapter 36

Author's Note: Well, it's one day late but I blame the Jubilations and the insane cooking/baking/grilling/drinking that was going on in this house. Anyway, thank you guys for your lovely comments! I truly appreciate them!

**Chapter Thirty-Six:**

...and Senseless Acts of Beauty.

It was a faintly familiar sound that woke Brenda eventually. She realized, as she pried an eye open, that the room wasn't completely dark, that there was a brightness coming in from a window.

She realized that she wasn't at home.

She was in a bed.

The noise was the ringing of a phone.

And what had actually awoken her was Sharon, who had gotten out of bed at the ever louder getting ringing coming from the hallway.

"Captain Raydor speaking..." She said in a hushed voice, standing in the doorway, checking up on her. She hadn't realized Brenda was awake. "What is it, Sergeant?"

The woman turned, disappearing from view.

Brenda sighed and relaxed for a moment. The clock on the bedside table read 5:26 in bold, red letters.

Wrapping the blanket around herself, Brenda decided to try to find her clothes, hoping she wouldn't see much of the Captain, wherever the heck she was, and get out of there fairly unnoticed.

Her shoes were clearly visible, laying in the dim light provided by the window. Her dress was at the end of the bed.

Her panties had never come off but her bra was missing.

Raydor had flung it somewhere.

She did find the Captain's though...

Brenda sat down on the bed, staring at the woman's bra.

Perhaps it had somehow managed to get underneath.

The blonde bent over the edge of the bed.

"What are you doing?"

Brenda shot up, Sharon's bra clutched to her chest.

"That's mine...again." She wandered across the room, wearing a robe, and picked up Brenda's bra from the floor with her mere pinky. "That was Sergeant Elliott on the phone," she explained as she approached. "I have to go."

The blonde nodded slowly, "Did somethin' happen?" She wondered, appearing only mildly interested.

"Nothing you have to get involved in." Sharon replied curtly, handing over the bra. "I have to shower, Sergeant Elliott is going to pick-"

"Somebody get shot?"

"No," Sharon almost rolled her eyes. "Sergeant Elliott is going to be here any minute and your car-"

"Somebody die?"

"No. Listen. You have to get dressed-"

"You throwin' me out?" Brenda asked, scandalized.

Sharon groaned. "Alright. Stay. Wait till we've left. You can shower but don't touch anything."

Brenda blinked.

"You're confined to this room."

She scoffed. "No need to be so controllin', Cap'n. So, what did Sergeant Elliott say on the phone?"

"I'll be in the shower." Sharon turned on her heel.

Brenda pouted to herself and fell back onto the bed, wondering if there had been a murder...or a shooting...or...what exactly did her Captain do most of the time?

She didn't have the faintest clue.

The blonde shot off the bed - where was her phone?

"Where's-" The shower went off. Brilliant. Brenda swallowed and walked towards the door. All the lights were switched off in the hallway and, judging from the proximity of the sound, the bathroom was right across the hall.

Well then, Brenda thought with a defiant expression, and went in search of her phone. It couldn't be far, most likely in her purse that she had left by the door. She rooted around in it, shifting papers, the smaller purse she had worn for their dinner, a pair of panties that she had packed (just in case) and decided to wear immediately.

She pulled down the ones she was wearing, clutching the sheet to her body. As she pulled the new panties up her legs, she heard the distinct sound of a car.

It sounded closer than it should if it were merely passing the house.

"Shoot!" Brenda hobbled to the left, into the next room and peered through the curtains.

Sergeant Elliott was getting out of his car that he had parked on the driveway as if he had done it a hundred times before.

"Shoot, shoot, shoot!"

He did, to her utter horror, look intently at her silver Crown Vic.

Brenda made a beeline for the bedroom, slamming the door and falling onto the bed, purse and all.

The doorbell rang.

Just...wonderful!

"Hello? Captain?"

Brenda's eyes almost rolled back in her head - he was in the house?

"One minute!" Sharon yelled.

What was he doing here? How did he get here so quickly? Brenda's mind reeled as her eyes landed on the Captain's cell phone.

Perhaps he had been calling for the past half hour.

Sharon burst through the door then, her hair wet at the tips and tied back in an unfashionable display. She yanked the door to her closet open and went through the rack of power suits.

Brenda smirked gleefully as a black dress came flying her way.

Then the woman raided the underwear drawer, pulling a bra from it and matching panties.

She dropped the robe and stood there, naked.

Brenda inhaled slowly, letting her eyes wander across the woman's body as she frantically pulled the panties up her legs and slipped into the bra, fastening the clasp as she advanced on Brenda and the dress.

They made brief eye contact as the Captain pulled the dress up.

It was modest and rather proper, knee length of course but Brenda couldn't help but admire her elegant, slim form.

"Zip!" Sharon ordered quietly and presented her back.

Brenda zipped, smirking.

Then Raydor was at the door, poking her head out. "Why aren't you getting yourself a coffee, Sergeant?"

Elliott was apparently still standing in the hallway.

"Uh," he said, "I thought...the car..."

Sharon, without meaning to give herself away, did just that by turning to look at Brenda. "Oh, uh...I'll be right there!"

The blonde rolled her eyes and dropped the sheet unceremoniously to get dressed.

"You may use the shower, if you feel that you have to," the brunette said, fussing with her hair and implying that she would rather have Brenda not use it. "I'll lock the door when-"

"How am I supposed to get out?"

"Shh!" Sharon shushed her then her expression changed suddenly. "Through the garage."

"What?"

"It has a switch...on the inside..."

"No, no, no," Brenda said with finality, having climbed out a window or two back in the day when Will had still been in the picture and one thing was for sure, she was not going back there.

"I'm leavin' through the front door," she said.

"You can't do that."

"Why not?"

Appropriately at that very moment, they heard a drawer bang somewhere in the house.

"You know," Brenda started, an undignified expression on her face, "You should get a new lock. It's not safe."

Sharon sighed and rubbed her forehead. "There's a spare key by the door and don't forget to lock it when you leave."

"Promise," the blonde grinned. "You better take care of whatever Sergeant Elliott came here for or he might dismantle your kitchen."

"Yes, thank you," Sharon drawled and put on a very dashing looking jacket.

"How come he can just walk in here whenever he wants?"

The brunette lifted her eyebrows and met Brenda's gaze with cool, yet sparkling eyes. "And here I thought you weren't into all that sharing and getting to know each other business."

"Well," Brenda drawled slowly but didn't know what else to say.

"You're just nosy," she concluded and gave her a kiss. "I have to go." She glanced at her watch. "And remember: don't touch anything."

* * *

Brenda massaged in the conditioner.

It said something about luscious curls.

And it smelled of her Captain.

She used the shower gel as well, lots of it, slathering it on and rubbing her arms, her stomach, her breasts.

Once she felt clean and sufficiently covered in her Captain, she stepped out of the shower and used a towel carefully folded over a rack. She took a deep breath as she dried her face, breathing in the detergent.

And left it on the bedroom floor.

She dressed and searched her purse for her phone.

There was a message; Brenda's heart missed a beat.

'Tried you at home. Call me when you get this.'

The blonde bit her lip, her brain not wasting any time in trying to conjure up a story to tell him. She left the bedroom and walked down the hall. She found the kitchen, in the sink was Sergeant Elliott's coffee cup.

Brenda leaned against the counter and sighed.

Good thing the department wasn't into vanity plates or else the Sergeant might have figured which cop exactly his Captain was trying to hide in the bedroom.

Brenda hated close calls like this - for her it wasn't about the possibility of getting caught, she rather enjoyed operating undetected.

She had missed Fritz's call. She hoped he hadn't tried work. Was this his way of testing her? Things weren't the best when they had parted but, Brenda had to remind herself, he loved her, and he wouldn't knowingly sabotage their marriage.

Or would he?

Brenda opened a cupboard, the one above the coffee maker, in search for a mug.

The lovely Sergeant Elliott had left some coffee in the pot.

The blonde poured herself a generous cup.

Sugar. Where would Raydor keep that?

Brenda held her breath for a moment as she went in search, conscious of her phone still sitting there.

She did find sugar after the third cupboard she had opened and put three whole tea spoons in. She stirred, took a sip and picked up her phone.

Wandering back towards the bedroom, phone pressed to her ear, Brenda was suddenly aware that she felt rather displaced again, like she always did after having spent the night with her Captain.

There was an eerie calm within her that she couldn't explain, a detachedness from reality, a distance between herself and her own life. It always worried her but she couldn't bring herself to end this, to walk out and go back to how things were before she had met the woman.

But there was no going back, at least she felt like it, Raydor was there and she wouldn't go away anytime soon.

If anything, Brenda thought with a self-satisfactory smirk, if anything, Raydor would be around a lot more often.

"Hey, Brenda..."

The blonde was startled by the voice on the other end. "Hi, Fritzy." She recovered her composure and immediately launched into her explanation with her best pitiful yet whiney voice. "I'm sorry I couldn't get back to you sooner, it's just been terrible at work."

"Yeah, I thought as much."

"And is it impossible to get decent coffee in this town?" She stared into her mug, wishing she had thought of milk because that Sergeant Elliott didn't have the faintest clue how to brew a proper pot.

"You should try our coffee maker at home."

"Very funny..." She took a large sip as she swept into the bedroom and nearly tripped over the towel she had so thoughtlessly disposed of. "So, when are you comin' home?"

"Ah," Fritz was apparently slurping his own coffee. "That's why I'm calling..."

"Don't tell me they want you to move there," Brenda ask, scandalized.

"No, of course not! It's just that, if I left tomorrow-"

Tomorrow?

"-Morgan would have to stay an extra four days."

"So you thought you'd help her out a little," the blonde finished contritely, walking across the room to the window. She stared out at the backyard, hand on her hip, tapping her foot and fully prepared to lay it on thick.

Because even though this was nice, having her time with Raydor whenever she wanted, she did miss Fritz.

He was the most important person in her life.

Not Raydor.

And that was when she realized that perhaps Brenda Leigh Johnson was the most important person in her life, seeing as how much she already missed her time with the Captain.

No matter, Brenda argued, this was about Fritz.

And just a year ago he would have rather come home to her.

"You think that after all that's happened..." She trailed off, eying up the walk in closet. "You think that's a good idea?"

"Honey," Fritz said empathetically, the first indication that whatever was about to leave his mouth was utter bullshit. "This is my job. You know better than anyone how it can get in the way of life. Besides, Morgan and I are making progress here."

Right. He was using her work against her now.

Brenda took a deep breath, her hand resting against the door. This wasn't the time and the place to be childish.

She had to calm the heck down.

"Fine. If y'all are havin' such a great time in San Diego, why don't y'all stay there."

She hung up.

Ugh!

What had come over her? She was insanely jealous of the woman for no apparent reason. She was gay with a gay wife and a dog.

For heaven's sakes!

Her phone rang and for a moment she wasn't entirely sure whether to be scared or happy about it.

"Yes?"

"What the hell is wrong with you, Brenda?"

Yes, what was wrong with her?

Brenda leaned against the doorframe of the closet, eyes tightly shut.

"I don't know," she said feebly. "Things are all over the place...and I miss you..."

"Well," Fritz said calmly, "Maybe that's not such a bad thing."

"What is?"

"You. Missing me," he clarified.

Brenda's jaw dropped. "How is that a good thing?"

"Listen," Fritz sighed, dropping the subject. "I'll be home soon then we can talk."

The blonde stepped into the closet, absentmindedly letting her fingers glide over the woman's clothes. "Alright," she said eventually, quite relieved that this whole conversation was over. "Well...I should go home and get some coffee then."

"Sounds good," Fritzy smiled. "Say hi to Joel from me."

"Will do..."

"Okay." He paused. "I'll talk to you soon, Brenda. I love you."

"I love you too...bye."

"Bye."

"Bye now." She hung up and took a deep breath which reminded her where she was.

In Raydor's closet amongst masses of suits and skirts and blouses and dresses.

Trying to forget about the phone call, Brenda found herself drawn to a particularly flattering piece of clothing that hung between blacks, grays, purples and charcoals.

A red dress.

The blonde sucked her lower lip in as she stared at it with a mischievous expression.

She shouldn't, really.

Brenda picked it up by the hanger and trailed her fingertips over the material, curious, almost marvelous then she held the dress against her body and paraded it in front of the mirror.

It was gorgeous, she thought and wished she could stuff it in her handbag and take it home with her.

But then again, Brenda mused contemplatively, head tilted to the side as she studied her reflection, but then again, this dress would be wasted on her.

On Sharon however it would be stunning.

Mindblowingly sexy even.

Brenda swallowed heavily and closed her eyes for a moment, picturing it purposefully and knowing full well that it would put her in a state but unable to keep herself from doing it.

Sharon Raydor in that dress. It clung to her, showed off that absolutely fabulous chest that Brenda was sure everyone would appreciate the sight of if the woman decided not to hide it away anymore.

And those legs.

Brenda smirked and inhaled the scent of the garment; she had never really understood that appreciation for legs Lieutenant Flynn had proclaimed on numerous occasions but now she knew - Sharon Raydor's legs were amazing.

"Oh, for heaven's sakes..." She chastised herself and put the dress back rather hastily.

Panting slightly as she emerged from the closet, and shutting the door behind herself with more force than was necessary, Brenda surveyed the room one more time.

She picked up her towel and folded it.

The blonde suddenly felt the need to erase all trace of her presence and made to straighten out the rumpled sheets. Raydor would strip the bed when she got home tonight, no doubt, they smelled of sex but she couldn't help but clean up after herself.

Picking up the folded towel, Brenda ended up back in the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror.

Her Captain had warned her not to touch anything but her hair was an utter mess and there was the brush - Brenda figured, she might as well.

Going through the cabinets in search of a hair band to tie her hair back with, Brenda concluded that her Captain was a rather organized woman and that she owned nice things.

Like expensive lipstick for example.

Brenda applied an even coat of dark, maroonish red and pursed her lips.

She did love her Captain's lips.

The way she kissed with them, the way they felt - never too dry, never too moist - against Brenda's own lips. They never seemed pliant or particularly luscious, which Brenda suspected was caused by what was coming out of the woman's mouth, every sharp little syllable, but once they kissed those lips felt warm and full and soft.

Women's lips, Brenda suspected, were just that.

Warm and full and soft.

The blonde stared at herself, the rather unfitting color on her lips and dabbed away at it to make it seem at least a bit lighter.

There.

She smiled.

Time to go home.

* * *

Joel had greeted her with a meow, slinking around her legs and schmoozing with her ankles, to hopefully soften her up enough to go straight to his food bowl.

She had picked him up and kissed his little head before she had left the house again, wearing clean clothes, to go to work.

Brenda realized she was a bit early but her mind had already been on the tasks at hand. She had managed to delegate and share her responsibilities, namely the paperwork, with Lieutenant Provenza, her second in command.

It was perhaps the only 'responsibility' that she truly managed to delegate.

When she had started, Brenda remembered nostalgically, she had had to do everything by herself.

Nothing got done.

At least not without backstabbing.

She felt a bit like that with Raydor.

In the beginning.

Because they had gotten nothing done without backstabbing and looks that could melt the polar ice caps.

But, much like the relationship between Brenda and her squad, they had sort of, kind of, maybe grown on each other a little bit.

Raydor was just so hard to get used to, the blonde thought, an acquired taste, really, unlike herself of course - Brenda considered herself just a tad eccentric and perhaps, even though she wouldn't say it out loud, somewhat quicker than most.

She had merely been born with a good helping of common sense which, she found, was clouded by silly things such as politics and feelings in pretty much every other person on earth.

Not that she suffered any delusions of grandeur.

However, Brenda thought as she stepped onto the elevator, the CIA picked its people carefully. She wasn't entirely sure why they had picked her of all people though.

She had wondered about that a lot once upon a time, she had wondered if she was actually enough of a sociopath to make a living out of lying.

Well, Brenda reminded herself, she was here now, in Los Angeles as a Deputy Chief of the police, fighting the good fight.

It wasn't really about that though, was it?

Murder just was addictive, no matter whether you committed it or solved it.

"Good morning, Chief."

Brenda spun around, nearly tripping over her own feet and spotted Provenza, coffee cup in hand, approaching from the break room.

"Lieutenant," the blonde was rather surprised to see him. "My, aren't you an early bird?"

"Never really left," Provenza announced and pulled his jacket from the back of his chair. "Was just on my way out when I get a call from little Sergeant Elliott to report an incident on the Witch's behalf."

"I really wish you wouldn't call her that, Lieutenant." Brenda chastised then realized what he had just said. "Hold on, what incident?"

"Eh," Provenza waved her off and grabbed a file off his desk. "Some idiot threw a chair through her office window."

"What?"

"Yeah. Stupid. He's locked up, lost his job too," Provenza rambled, handing her the folder. "Apparently he's got a bad temper but as Sergeant Elliott so dutifully informed me, that has to have no impact on my report...which is this, t's crossed and i's dotted."

Brenda glanced over the paperwork until it was snatched from her hands.

"And I was just about to deliver copies to the Pope and the Witch."

"Lieutenant!"

"Fine," he said lamely. "Captain Raydor."

Brenda scoffed and relieved him of the folder again. "You go on home, Lieutenant. No one wants to see you when you're in that kind of mood."

Provenza smirked and nodded tiredly. "Thank you, Chief."

But Brenda wasn't really paying attention anymore. She hoisted her purse further up on her shoulder and marched along, straight for the elevator.


	37. Chapter 37

Author's Note: Well, it's one day late but I blame the Jubilations and the insane cooking/baking/grilling/drinking that was going on in this house. Anyway, thank you guys for your lovely comments! I truly appreciate them!

**Chapter Thirty-Seven:**

Nothing like starting your Day with that Stabby Feeling

Brenda tapped her foot.

She could've said something yesterday.

Perhaps she wanted her to find out this way.

Raydor did have a slight flair for the dramatic sometimes.

The blonde straightened her jacket as the doors opened, an attempt to regain her composure.

"Morning, Chief." An officer said.

"G'morning." She replied and tapped her foot again.

She truly wondered what was in that file, not that she cared, but she felt rather put out to have to suffer the woman's mood without having been given a reason.

When she finally arrived on the right floor, Brenda stomped off the elevator.

Fine, she thought and took a deep breath as she went through the first door. Fine. She was being upset over nothing.

Besides, she only wanted to see the woman to inform her of Fritzy's late return. They should make the most of it.

Perhaps they could have another meal.

But they had agreed upon not doing that again.

Did that still count though, with them having come to the conclusion that this affair couldn't work with at least some personal details being divulged?

Brenda was confused and she hated it.

This was supposed to be simple, give her some uncomplicated escape yet here she was, wracking her brain.

The blonde shook her head and waltzed into the offices of FID, files firmly tucked under her arm.

"Chief?" Some middle-aged, donut dunking detective spluttered. "What a surprise!" He exclaimed but his little maneuver was cut short by a rather loud bang.

"That's ludicrous!"

Brenda's eyes widened as she heard the rather rough yell from Raydor's office.

"Listen-"

"No, you listen, lady-"

"It's Raydor," Sharon interrupted, "Captain Raydor. And now, if you could just-"

"Oh, for god's sake! What did you expect him to do after what you people put him through?"

"Sir. I certainly did not expect him to do this."

The blinds went up unexpectedly and everyone, deer-caught-in-headlights expressions firmly in places, was privy to the scene that presented itself in Raydor's office.

That missed a complete glass wall.

Brenda sucked her lower lip in, partly amused, partly experiencing Schadenfreude at the expression on the man's face which was horror at having been confronted with something he felt utterly defenseless against and the fact that everyone was bearing witness to his rather volatile behavior.

"Chief," Raydor said, surprised.

Brenda put a smile on her face, approaching. "Good morning, Captain Raydor." She held the files up. "I've got the incident report," she gestured at the broken window. "I will speak to Chief Pope about this as soon as I get a chance to hand him his copy."

Sharon gave her a slow nod. "That's very much appreciated, Chief." She turned to her visitor. "Now. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No," he said, his lips thinning to a line. "Look. He was being an asshole." He glanced at Brenda. "But I hope we can resolve this." He made to leave, trotting past Brenda with a nod of acknowledgement.

The blonde stared at the Captain for a moment, heard the collective sighs of relief then swept into the woman's office, closing the door behind herself.

Not that it mattered, seeing as there was no wall and everything they said would be perfectly audible on the outside.

"Well, here's your report." She handed it over and glanced, out of the very corner of her eye, at the goings on outside.

"Thank you," Sharon said rather calmly and closed the blinds again as if that made any difference. "I presume everything is in order?"

"It is...it is..."

"Well." Sharon looked up from the file. "Is there anything else?"

Well, yes, Brenda thought and bit her lip. "There's one little detail, I'm afraid." She rounded the desk and leaned in closely. "If you could just read your statement over and put your signature right here..." She put her finger on a dotted line, leaning in even more until there was barely a breath between them.

Sharon swallowed. "Of course."

The blonde smiled innocently, and whispered. "I want to see you tonight." Her hand brushed over the woman's back. "Well then. If you could just walk this down to my office when you're done that would be alright."

"Sure."

Brenda's smile widened as she put a bit of distance between them. "Alright then. Thank you, Cap'n."

"No, thank you, Chief."

With that they parted and Brenda made her way back to the Major Crimes Division, much calmer, of course.

Provenza was gone by then but Detective Sanchez had just arrived and was talking to Tao in a rather subdued manner. Nothing out of the ordinary for Julio, she thought and gave him a smile.

"Chief!" Tao burst out in excitement. "Take a look at this!" He presented his computer screen in a grand fashion.

Brenda indulged him, suppressing a smirk as she pushed her glasses up her nose and took a good long look. "Oooh," she cooed. "That's nice." She didn't particularly have an idea what exactly she was looking at.

"It's the new design for our department shield."

"Oh, really?" Brenda squinted. "Elf Department!" She got it then. "That's..." The blonde trailed off. "What do we need that for?"

"It's our turn, Chief," Julio supplied rather unhelpfully.

"For what?"

"The LAPD's Mission: Elf." Tao explained.

Brenda swallowed - she had no idea.

"We wrap the toys for the needy children," Sanchez said matter-of-fact. "Then Lieutenant Provenza puts on his Santa suit and delivers them."

"Lieutenant Provenza? In a Santa suit?" She pictured it.

"Hell, yeah," Flynn had walked in. "Gets tighter every year." He laughed at his own joke as he took off his jacket.

Every year? Brenda contemplated that for a moment, realizing that, after all this time working together, she had not known this little detail about the lieutenant. "How nice," she concluded despite the grizzly image of Provenza wearing a fake beard.

"You approve?"

Brenda glanced at the Elf Department Badge again and nodded. "Course, Lieutenant. Excellent work!" She patted Tao on the back and swept into her office.

Her day was starting out fabulous.

She sat down in her chair with a satisfied sigh.

The blonde's mind drifted back to her earlier thoughts - she still had to put together a file on their latest case for the DA yet there was no proper copy of the DNA results and a copy of the fingerprint report was also suspiciously absent.

Usually Lieutenant Provenza chased down those loose ends for her but, Brenda glared at his empty desk, Provenza wasn't there.

What also wasn't there was Flynn's written statement about how exactly he tracked down the suspect via phone numbers.

Brenda concluded that it was all in a terrible mess.

With her mood deflating considerably, the blonde pushed the folder away.

"Chief Johnson..." Taylor stood in the doorway wearing a rather flashy example of his wardrobe. "You got a minute?"

Brenda nodded. "Of course, Commander, come on in." He held a file in his hand, the blonde realized too late.

Weary of the man's inflated ego that he insisted on parading about the department, letting everyone know that he was speculating on a promotion from his new best buddy Delk, Brenda couldn't help but wonder what he could possibly want from her.

After all, he probably wasn't there for a chat even though many considered him to be the biggest gossip of the department.

"What can I do for you?"

Taylor entered nonchalantly. "Well, I was wondering if you could take something off our hands?"

Brenda glanced at the outstretched file.

"I'd consider it a...personal favor."

"Hmm, a personal favor," she took the proffered folder with a raised eyebrow. "You mean you wanna clear your caseload before Christmas."

"Well, Chief," Taylor chuckled. "We're swamped, we just picked up another armed robbery and I'm sure you of all people should feel uh...sympathetic to our situation." He watched her intently as Brenda leafed through the file.

"Besides...it's better to look busy with Chief Delk being in and out of here every day."

Brenda pursed her lips and glared at the unfinished report on her desk. "Fine," she conceded. "We'll take it."

"Thank you, Chief," Taylor said courteously. "This is a good one, you won't regret it."

"I better not," Brenda mumbled, studying the crime scene photos.

"S'cuse me, Captain."

"Commander."

The blonde's head shot up and, over the rim of her glasses, she spotted Raydor in the doorway.

"Captain!" Her voice was higher than usual, not that she could help it and she glanced at her squad outside and Taylor's retreating back.

With Fritz she felt less like this, like he could look at her and know.

"What can I do for you?"

Raydor smiled in her plastic fashion, holding a folder to her chest as she closed the door. "The report." She held it up a little. "Signed. I also included a copy for Chief Pope."

Brenda swallowed and risked another glance at her seemingly unsuspecting squad. "How very thoughtful of you."

Apparently Raydor found that amusing; the woman gave her that barely-there smirk and sat, file folder on her lap.

"Well." The blonde had nothing better to say and held her hand out, waiting.

The woman stared at her. "Oh, right..."

Brenda smirked right back at her - Raydor, flustered? She never thought she'd see the day. Looking the paperwork over, not that the blonde doubted her Captain, she tried to think of something else to say or rather of how to broach the subject of their little get-together tonight.

"Everything's in order."

"Yes," Raydor said. "Chief..." The woman shook her head a little. "Brenda," the name sounded foreign on her lips, said like this and not in bed.

"How 'bout drinks?" The blonde asked quickly.

"Okay."

"And then we can go to your place?"

"No."

"No? What do you mean, no?"

Raydor stood. "Just that. We are not going to my place again."

"But where else are we supposed to go?"

The woman clenched her jaw in annoyance. "Can we not complicate things, just go for drinks and then figure out where-"

"You're the one complicatin' things!" Brenda said a tad too loudly.

"Then how about we go to your place?"

The blonde pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "Fine. You win."

Raydor regarded her with a rather impassive expression. "Eight?"

"Perfect."

"See you then, Chief."

* * *

"47!"

A collective groan erupted.

"48!"

"C'mon, Tao, how many more are there?" Andy yelled from behind her.

Tao appeared from behind the counter where he was following one of his former colleagues of the CID. "49! That's it! Oh, no, wait! 50!"

A body was still spread out on the floor behind the counter, motionless while the blood pool around it dried slowly.

Bullet holes graced the walls and counters, glass was everywhere, broken display cases, another body slumped over at a desk in the very back and empty shelves.

"Oh, Commander Taylor! I am gonna kill you!" Brenda seethed from the entrance where they were all huddled together, waiting to be granted entrance.

"I wouldn't say that too loud, Chief," Provenza said, making his way to the front of the queue. "Somebody might try to frame you."

"Lieutenant?" Brenda frowned at him. "What are you doin' here?"

The man rolled his eyes. "Somebody called and dragged me out of bed."

Flynn shrugged. "Hey, why should we be the only ones to suffer?"

"I spent last evening interviewing the Witch and spending some quality time with the rat squad so shut up, Flynn!"

"Touchy..."

Brenda sighed. "I really wish you wouldn't call her that."

Provenza glowered at his partner one last time then turned to her. "You keep saying that, Chief, but I can tell you don't really mean it."

The blonde was about to retort when Tao's voice rang out in the store. "Done! 53 bullets...that we could find."

"Really?" Gabriel asked. "Good thing you found 58 shell casings then."

"They're probably in those bodies by the looks of it."

"Really?" Gabriel asked again, glaring. "Can we come in now?"

Tao almost rolled his eyes then just nodded. "Be careful!"

"So." Provenza sidled up to Brenda and surveyed the scene. "What happened here?"

The blonde stepped over an evidence marker, hands on her hips and still mentally cursing Taylor. "What does it look like, Lieutenant?"

"Well..." He sighed. "Somebody shot first and asked questions never?"

"Somethin' like that." Brenda glanced at her watch - it was already 11 a.m. "We will be spending all day cataloging the evidence...and waitin' around for the autopsies...and puttin' the serial numbers of all those stolen guns in the database. It's gonna take forever!"

"You shoulda asked what kind of robbery/homicide Taylor was talking about when you took that case off him, Chief."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Brenda glowered and took another long look around the gun and ammo shop. "I'll keep that in mind for next time..."

The blonde maneuvered the store, avoiding the evidence markers, and took a peek at the body behind the counter. "The register was emptied," she said more to herself than anybody.

"Yep," Tao piped up, "They also tried the safe but couldn't get it to open."

"Well," Brenda put her hands on her hips. "If this isn't a robbery then I don't know what is." Accepting the fact that Taylor had conned her into an impossible amount of paperwork and that there was nothing she could do to change it, Brenda bit her teeth into the case as she always did.

"Detective Sanchez, call your contacts in the gang unit, see if there's a possible connection. Please."

"You got it, Chief," he said, the phone already in his hand.

"Detective Gabriel, Lieutenant Flynn, please canvas the neighborhood."

Gabriel looked relieved to be out of there as he made his way back to the door.

"On it, Chief," Flynn said around a toothpick.

"Lieutenant Tao?" He had disappeared.

"Yes, Chief?" He shot up from behind the second body.

"We need to figure out which guns are missin'...did you find any sort of cataloging system the owners had goin'?"

"Indeed!" He presented the broken computer screen next to the body. "I believe they may have had a computer database."

"Oh, for goodness sakes."

"The hard drive seems to be intact."

"We need those serial numbers ASAP, Lieutenant."

Tao nodded seriously. "Understood, Chief."

Well then, Brenda thought and took a deep breath but her moment of relaxation was interrupted by her cell phone's incessant ringing. After rummaging around for it in her purse, the blonde squinted at the screen.

"Mama." Sighing in sheer mental exhaustion, Brenda stepped outside, almost walking into Sanchez who was talking on the phone as well.

Her day had started out so well...

"Hello, mama?"

"Finally! Do you ever check your messages?"

"I do! I do so!"

"I was just callin' to inform you of our Christmas plans."

Brenda nodded to herself and walked up the sidewalk. "You made plans?" She asked, secretly relieved. "I thought you and daddy were gonna come see us?"

"We are!" Willie Rae exclaimed exuberantly.

"You are?"

"Yes! We just booked our tickets yesterday!"

The blonde felt her stomach drop. "Oh mama...what a surprise."

"Well," Willie Rae went on rather pragmatically. "We thought we might as well book it, seein' as you can't seem to listen to any of your messages."

"That is not true! I was just busy, is all."

"Hmm," her mother hummed disapprovingly. "How is Fritz?"

Brenda rolled her eyes, momentarily forgetting about the whole Christmas visit disaster. "He's off with work...in San Diego."

"I heard it's nice there."

"Apparently so," she commented evenly. "He's there with that Agent Morgan."

"Ooooh, I see," Willie Rae cooed.

"No, mama! She's a lesbian."

"A what?"

"Lesssbiaaaan."

"Well. He better be back for Christmas. Who else is gonna come pick us up from the airport."

Brenda pursed her lips. "Mama. I can pick you up."

"Yes, yes," Willie Rae said. "You want to talk to your daddy?"

"No," the blonde said immediately. "No, no, no. Just tell him I said 'hi'. I'm really busy, mama, there was a double murder."

"There's always a murder, Brenda."

"Well."

"Chief!"

The blonde furrowed her eyebrows. "Listen, mama-"

"Chief!" It was Sanchez.

"What is that racket, Brenda Leigh?"

"Watch out!"

The blonde turned in time to see a car speeding down the street, erratically weaving left and right. She took a step back then realized she should be running just in time for the vehicle to crash right into a police patrol car.

After a moment, baffled, Brenda pressed the phone back against her ear.

"Are you alright? What happened?"

"Oh," the blonde saw the door of the car open slowly. "Just some minor traffic incident."

A man leaned out.

And puked right there onto the street.

"Drunk driver."

Willie Rae scoffed. "That's terrible!"

Everyone was rushing to get to the man, and Brenda knew it wouldn't be long for sirens to ring out and an ambulance to arrive. "Listen, mama, I'm sorry but I have to go. It's terribly busy."

"Alright, honey, you go and do what you have to do."

"Thank you, mama."

"I'll email you our flight number and arrival time. I love you!"

Brenda didn't even listen. "Love you too, mama, bye now." She hung up and advanced on the car. The driver was currently fighting off police officers while simultaneously bleeding from a cut above his eyebrow.

"Sir!" Brenda marched right up to him. "Sir. Stop it!" She put her hands on her hips, looking very little intimidating. "You're bleedin'." She informed him.

"Wha'?" The guy slurred then reached up and touched his eyebrow.

He stared at the blood for a moment and then he promptly fainted.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter Thirty-Eight:**

Nothing like ending your Day with that Stabby Feeling

"When is the ambulance gonna get here?" Brenda tapped her foot and glared at the cuffed gentleman sitting in the back of a squad car. The bleeding had stopped, it had only been a minor cut, and their drunken friend had regained consciousness.

The blonde glanced at her watch, seeing the minutes tick away.

She knew she wouldn't make it tonight.

"We've got nothing." Flynn said as he and Gabriel approached. "All people seem to remember now is that car and that guy...oh, and, uh...you."

"Wonderful," Brenda mumbled to herself. "They also destroyed the cameras but Lieutenant Tao is waiting to see if they were caught on film before they could do so. Detective, why don't you go on and help him."

"With what? Waiting?" Gabriel joked but only Flynn laughed.

"Noooo. He's trying to get the serial numbers off that computer. I need you to check what's actually missin', so why don't you call him and find out?" As she walked away, Brenda was very well aware of the fact that they were wondering what the hell the matter was with her.

Then the ambulance approached.

"Chief!" Provenza came running her way. "Lieutenant Tao says the Jameson family just walked into Major Crimes."

"What?"

"Apparently somebody in robbery/homicide called them, and after they had shown up, redirected them to you."

The blonde stomped her foot. "Oh, for heaven's sakes! Commander Taylor!"

"I can go and-"

"Do they know he's dead?"

Provenza regarded her for a moment then pressed his phone back against his ear. "Do they know he's dead? Tao? Do they know he's dead?" He nodded. "No."

The blonde seethed for a moment then took a deep breath, thinking of Raydor, of their date tonight, of how she would make it, get there in time and how they would have a fabulous time together.

"Lieutenant Provenza. With me, with me, with me."

* * *

"He's dead?"

Brenda nodded at her victim's son and glanced at the wife who seemed rather distraught, judging from the hysterical crying.

"But where?"

"In his store. It looks like a robbery gone wrong..."

It was already past four and they had gotten nowhere yet with their investigation.

"What about my uncle?"

"Your uncle?" She glanced at Provenza, standing at the back of her office, who merely shrugged.

"Yeah. Melvin Carter." The son said.

_Whoopsie. _

Brenda bit her lip. "Melvin Carter? When have you last seen him?"

"Wait a minute," the son, Paul, exclaimed. "That's what you asked us right before you told us my dad was dead." He broke out into tears. "My uncle's dead too?"

The blonde swallowed then nodded, glancing at the woman who then seemed beyond saving.

"He was like a father to me!"

"So...your father...he wasn't then?"

Paul didn't answer, he was too busy bawling his eyes out.

Her day had just taken a turn for the worst.

Once alone in her office again and not one step further in their investigation, Brenda took a moment to relax. She opened her drawer and picked out a random piece of chocolate, it didn't matter what it was, as long as it was sweet, and let it melt on her tongue.

And then she remembered the report she still had to deliver to Pope.

How could she have forgotten?

Brenda gathered the file in her arms and swept out of her office.

"Chief! We've got the Carters downstairs."

"This will have to wait, Detective Gabriel."

"But, Chief-"

"Just put them in the break room."

"Chief!"

She made it out the door and made her way to Pope's office. Will's mood had been a little deflated lately, since Delk had taken on the job that Will thought he was destined to do.

"Will," she barged in, walking right past his secretary.

He was on the phone, giving her a stern look. "Yes, of course, Chief. Sounds perfect. Yep. Yeah. Great. Bye." He hung up, his face a bit red and raised his eyebrows at Brenda. "Yes?"

The blonde rolled her eyes inwardly at his overly dramatic performance of his terribly exhausting job. "I've got a copy of the chair-through-window thingy from yesterday."

"Chair-through-window thingy?"

"You know what I mean," she said, exhausted herself, and it was only four o'clock. She dropped the file on the desk and plopped down in a chair. "Raydor's window needs replacin' as well."

"Yes, I figured that," Will commented and looked at her. "Get comfortable, why don't you?"

Not biting, Brenda sat back. "The idiot's Sergeant visited her this mornin' - he seems real nice." She hadn't meant to tell on him, it was Raydor after all, but found that the guy's attitude bothered her more than she had initially thought.

She had been on the receiving end of that plenty of times.

"That in the report?"

"Nope. Just thought I'd mention it."

"Yeah," Will sat as well. "I'm sure we've not heard the last of it."

"What you mean?"

He shook his head a little and rubbed his eyebrow. "She investigated him, got him suspended and now he's going to pretty much lose his job."

"That's hardly her fault."

"Just saying," Pope grumbled. "He's mad. And reckless...according to this." He held up the folder. "Well. Anything else?"

"Nope. I should get back to work anyhow."

"Oookay."

Brenda gave him a bit of a smile and made to leave.

Silly Raydor and her silly job.

The blonde felt suddenly overwhelmed. She walked down the hall, licking her lower lip and tasting lipstick. It didn't taste particularly different or special but knowing that it was Raydor's gave her a bit piece of mind.

"The Carter's are waiting for you, Chief." Gabriel smiled as she came in. "They barely fit into the break room."

Brenda sighed. "Wonnerful..."

* * *

7:13.

Brenda bit her lip. She was either not going to make it or she would be terribly late.

She should call Raydor, really.

But then there was the first gun they had recovered and in an armed robbery no less.

She would kill Taylor. She would absolutely destroy him.

Major Crimes would be stuck with 27 potential new cases - 27, that was how many guns were missing, minus the one they had just recovered.

And then Pope waltzed in. What did he want?

Brenda had the worst day, she thought to herself, the worst.

Pope didn't come to her though, he pulled Provenza aside. The blonde watched them, eyes narrowed.

Unable to help herself, the blonde swept out of her office and raced across the room. Pope better not pull one of her best people off the case, he better not mess with it either!

"Chief Pope." She inserted herself into the conversation. "Somethin' wrong?"

"Yes" "No" Provenza and Pope spoke at the same time.

"I told you this wouldn't be the end of it," the Chief mumbled, unimpressed.

"That stupid prick," the lieutenant said, "showed up at Raydor's house. Drunk." He picked up his jacket. "And now I have to drive out there and take a follow-up report."

"I'm comin' with you," Brenda announced, surprising herself.

"Really," Will asked. "Don't you think you've got enough on your plate here?"

"Well," Brenda retorted, "That's Taylor's fault and besides, who else is gonna care if a fellow female officer," she pronounced that very carefully, "is bein' harrassed? You?"

At Will's blank expression she put her hands on her hips. "Thought so. Lieutenant Provanza, you will have to drive. I can't remember where she lives."

"Got it."

"You go on ahead...I need to get my purse."

* * *

Brenda licked her lips again.

They were driving along Beverly Boulevard towards Raydor's house. She had contemplated telling Provenza not to take the 101 but had refrained from doing so.

After all, she was supposed to not know where the woman lived.

Perhaps she should have stayed at the office but, and perhaps she decided not to be aware of it, she would have sat at her desk wondering what the heck was going on.

She wasn't merely nosy, she had the overwhelming urge to know every detail of somebody else's business. She liked to get to the bottom of things and some things just interested her more than others.

It was hard to admit but Raydor's business interested her a lot.

"I can't believe the idiot," Provenza commented. "I told him yesterday to leave it alone...can't win with the rat squad..."

Brenda sighed.

You couldn't win with Raydor. First she wanted as little personal exchange as possible and then she changed her mind.

And she was a lesbian now. Not that it mattered, Brenda thought, watching the familiar houses go by. She didn't know why Raydor made such a fuss about it in the first place. After all, Brenda herself was sleeping with a woman, just that she wasn't about to put a label on it.

It was what it was. An affair. It was sex and it felt good.

Brenda didn't know what Raydor's issue was but she found that perhaps she wanted to find out.

Before she could delve deeper into her mind, her phone started ringing. Brenda breathed out a sigh of relief, having had enough of the solitude of her own thoughts.

Sometimes she felt as if they were potentially dangerous and that was part of why she liked to work as much as she did - she felt comforted by the fact that work crowded out whatever else was going on inside her head.

But now work had gotten entirely too personal.

And that was why she had an affair.

Brenda stared at her phone: Captain Raydor.

She glanced at Provenza.

For heaven's sakes...

"Hi, Fritzy." She gave the lieutenant an embarrassed look, just to be safe.

There was silence for a moment then Raydor said, "Where are you?"

"I"m just in the car...with Lieutenant Provenza."

There was silence once more and Brenda knew instantly why her Captain had called. At least, the blonde thought, she had the decency to cancel.

"I'm sorry 'bout tonight," Brenda lamented. "But Taylor dumped a huge case on me and now I'm just on my way to Raydor's house 'cause there's been some silly incident that needs investigatin'."

"Great," the Captain said.

"Alright then. I'll talk to you later, Fritzy."

Raydor made a sound in the back of her throat that Brenda knew what accompanied by an eye-roll.

"I love you!" Brenda said, like she always did now, adding a certain teasing undertone.

"Love you too, honey," Raydor replied evenly, the most even she had ever spoken, and promptly hung up.

The blonde put her phone back in her purse, smirking, refusing to think of how dangerous this was, of how stupid it was to play that game but couldn't care less.

"Agent Howard alright?"

Brenda nodded. "Yes," she said and left it at that.

Shortly thereafter they made it onto Raydor's street; two patrol cars were already waiting, lights flashing and, Brenda realized, Sergeant Elliott's car was parked in the driveway.

A fourth car, a Crown Vic, was parked across the street.

Brenda nibbled on her lower lip as they came to a halt.

"You ready for this, Chief?"

The blonde smirked. "As ready as I'll ever be, Lieutenant." They exited the car and, got their first look at the suspect, locked up in a patrol car.

Brenda gave him a good long look, thinking she might know him, thinking she had seen him before but couldn't come up with a name.

Shaking her head she took the steps up to the one story home. Brenda felt a bit uneasy, following Provenza just in case something she did seemed a bit too familiar.

The door was wide open and a patrol officer stood by it, guarding it for whatever reason and inside there was Raydor's voice, ringing out from what Brenda knew to be the kitchen.

"Sergeant. Go home."

"But-"

"Do you want it to be an order?"

"No, Captain...I'll accompany the suspect back to the precinct."

"Oh, no, you don't!" Provenza stepped in, Brenda right behind him.

There was a moment of silence, Raydor looked wide eyed and then Elliott scoffed. "Oh, c'mon."

"No, no, no, Sergeant," Brenda intervened. "We don't want you tied up in this. I'm sure Captain Raydor agrees." It was like talking to a five year old.

Elliott glanced at his Captain and sighed. "Alright. I'm going back to the office."

"No. You are going home." Raydor said and that time it was an order.

The tall Sergeant nodded, albeit unimpressed with the situation and left.

"Well then," Provenza announced jovially, "You got any coffee here?"

Raydor gave him a glare, knowing he was joking. "Make it yourself."

"Hey, I'm just trying to loosen things up here."

"Let's just get this over with."

While they bickered, not that Brenda had the nerve to listen to it, she took the time, knowing no one would notice, to stare.

She wanted to curse the woman yet kiss her and shove her onto the bed and screw her all over it at the same time.

She was wearing the red dress.

Brenda swallowed and broke out into a sweat. Dabbing at her eyebrow, bits and pieces of the conversation filtered through but she was momentarily gone, incapacitated, off to La La Land.

"Oh, for god's sake."

The blonde snapped out of it.

Raydor was pouring coffee. "Would you like one as well, Chief Johnson?" The Captain asked, pronouncing every syllable.

Out of nowhere Brenda remembered that she had left her coffee cup on the bedside table this morning. "No...I mean, yes, Captain, that would be nice. Thank you."

They sat at the small kitchen table, almost huddled together, drinking their coffee, which, Brenda was sure judging by the taste of it, Sergeant Elliott had prepared.

"Alright." Provenza opened his notebook. "Let's start at the beginning. When did you first notice Officer Crawley?"

"When I was leaving the house."

"To go where?"

Raydor narrowed her eyes. "Out."

"To meet whom?"

"A friend."

Brenda swallowed. "Lieutenant! Is any of this important to your investigation?"

Provenza gave her a look, he had been joking of course, having felt a bit nosy but Brenda knew that rushing to Raydor's defense was the last he expected her to do.

"So. You left the house then what?"

Sharon sighed. "He exited his car which, I have to add, shouldn't even be in his possession." She said in Brenda's direction. "He's suspended and that car is property of the LAPD."

"You want to go after his Sergeant now too, Captain?" Provenza asked, not expecting an answer.

"He had no business extending such a favor, especially knowing of Officer Crawley's recent behavior. The fact that he showed up at my house, intoxicated, proves as much."

The lieutenant pursed his lips. "I'll put that in the report."

Officer Crawley. It finally dawned on Brenda. "Cap'n Raydor. How long has this been goin' on?"

Sharon glared at her. "You were there."

"Where?" Provenza wondered.

"He came to my office right after we ruled his use of force to be unwarranted and unjustifiable. He wasn't happy."

Brenda smirked. "He called you a bitch."

"Yes," Sharon said evenly. "May I continue?"

Provenza nodded.

"Officer Crawley was waiting in his car, which he exited when he saw me. He yelled expletives, and called me, please write that down," Raydor pointed at his notebook, "a 'frigid cunt'," she said flatly. "And then he insinuated that I should...'get laid'."

"Okay," Provenza swallowed, writing furiously.

Meanwhile Brenda felt a flush covering her entire body. She stared at Raydor yet Raydor refused to look at her which was probably for the best but, and Brenda relished in it, the brunette wore a barely-there smirk.

"Then he fell. Which is how he got those abrasions on his hands. I went back inside, into my garage and radioed for a unit."

"The blood smears?"

What blood smears? Brenda's eyes darted about the room. She had missed them, flat out missed them.

How did that happen?

The blonde felt panic rise in her chest. She stared at Raydor. That woman. She made her careless and unobservant and preoccupied.

"He banged on the door. Look. Nothing really happened. Getting him for trespassing would be a stretch. I just want him off my street."

Provenza nodded, closing his notebook. "I'll try to talk some sense into him."

"Tell him that if he wants to keep his job, he better not show up here or FID again."

That was it, Brenda realized in dismay. She wouldn't be seeing much of her Captain today, there was more work waiting for her at the office, there was Joel to take care of and Raydor still had to wipe that blood off her front door.

She glanced at Provenza, wishing she hadn't come and acted out of the ordinary, which is exactly what she had done. Brenda realized she cared too much. It surprised her that she did care in the first place, that Raydor had become more than just plain ole Cap'n Wicked Witch.

Brenda stared at the woman as she walked them to the front door and for the first time she fully realized how involved they actually were.

They weren't friends but, deep down, where Brenda decided to hide all things close to home and hard to bear, she knew that she had grown fond of the woman.

* * *

The day was coming to an end; the sun was slowly disappearing behind the Los Angeles skyline, Sergeant Gabriel had gone home, Lieutenant Tao had bid her goodbye, Sanchez had given her a wave and a smile and Flynn had pulled his jacket from the back of his chair and had given her a wink goodbye.

Provenza was still sitting at his desk, typing up a report that could easily wait till morning. He had interviewed Officer Crawley who had been expectedly uncooperative in the presence of his union rep.

She wondered briefly if part of him did care about Raydor. They knew each other from 'way back', the 'good old times'. She pictured it, Provenza and Andrews, Flynn and Hodge, back in the day. She wondered how Raydor fit into the equation because it appeared that they all knew each other.

Raydor had accused them of misogyny - not that any of them had had any idea what that meant...back in the day.

It must have taken a lot of guts but that was Raydor for you, she never made it easy on herself, always with the head through the wall. She was confrontational, rarely open for compromises, exuding self-righteousness and surrounded by an air of self-importance.

She was a pain and Brenda imagined that she had been impossible to be partnered with.

Sighing, the blonde pulled her glasses from the bridge of her nose and rubbed her eyes. This case would keep them occupied for a while but the small chance that a major crime, a more major crime than this one would occur and give her the chance to redirect this one back to robbery/homicide, gave her at least a little pleasure.

"Chief?"

Brenda looked up, she had been deep in thought and hadn't noticed Provenza knocking on her door. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"The report's done."

"Good, good..." Brenda commented absentmindedly, shuffling papers on her desk.

"I'll have Captain Raydor put her John Hancock on the statement first thing tomorrow morning and then I will personally walk it to the Pope's office."

The blonde smiled a bit, knowing he was trying to cheer her up. "Captain Raydor?"

"Oh, you know..." Provenza said and shrugged his shoulders. "She's an awful pain in the ass but...that guy? I don't like him."

Brenda nodded. "Neither do I, Lieutenant. Let's just hope we've seen the last of him, shall we?"

"Yeah," the lieutenant gave her a smile. "Goodnight, Chief."

"Night, Lieutenant..."

Brenda sighed as she watched him leave. She should go on home as well, leave that desk-full of work for tomorrow.

She was about to make a decision when her phone rang, interrupting her.

"Chief Johnson."

"Chief," it was Taylor, the one responsible for ruining her day in the first place.

"What can I do for you this late in the evening, Commander?"

"I'm sorry to bother you but I hope you took video of the scene," he said, meaning the car crash which he was now in charge of.

Brenda narrowed her eyes. "Yes, why?"

"The guy just died."

"Died?" Brenda shot out of her seat. "What do you mean, died?"

Taylor sighed. "You know how it is with head wounds..."

"Oh, for heaven's sakes." The blonde searched her desk for the right folder. "I'll have Buzz send you everything he's got in the morning...and, I've got some documentation here as well. Statements."

"I appreciate it, Chief," Taylor replied smoothly. "I just wanted to let you know."

"Thank you, Commander," Brenda slumped back into her chair, now truly drained and hung up.

* * *

She kicked the door shut with her heel and dropped her purse on the sofa. It occurred to her that perhaps she should do some cleaning up before Fritz got back but it was late and she had had the worst day and she quite frankly couldn't care less.

She fed Joel; no matter how hectic her life was, no matter how much work she had, Brenda wouldn't forget about him.

"To eat! Joel! To eat!"

He came running, schmoozing with her legs as she set his food down.

Brenda smiled at him; all he wanted was to be fed, fresh water, the occasion lap and a bit of attention. The blonde contemplated that for a moment - perhaps she should have married a cat.

Kicking off her shoes, Brenda searched her purse for her phone. She briefly wondered if her mama had sent those travel details but decided to let Fritz take care of things, he was better at it anyway and he wouldn't forget, something Brenda couldn't guarantee she wouldn't.

As she searched, her fingers touched a foreign object, something she was pretty sure shouldn't be in her purse.

Brenda pulled it out expectantly.

The blonde stared at the key in her hand, holding it up like a grail as awareness set in - Raydor's key. To her house.

Brenda clutched it in her hand and tiptoed towards the kitchen, picking up a bottle of wine from the little cabinet on the way. The lower shelf, which was reserved for what was left of her absolutely favorite and expensive wine that she had made Flynn and Provenza buy all those years ago, was almost empty.

Brenda gave the bottle a good long look - its contents would certainly make up for the horrendous day she has had.

Placing the key on the kitchen counter, and keeping an eye on it, just in case, the blonde fished for the corkscrew.

She hesitated, biting her lip.

Brenda grabbed the key, the bottle and slipped on her shoes.

Hoisting her purse up on her shoulder, she left.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter Thirty-Nine: **

Here's To the Corkscrew!

Brenda drove slowly up the road, just to make sure there wasn't any patrol officer lurking around or worse, Sergeant Elliott, and parked her car on the street - never on the driveway.

The bottle of wine sat on the passenger seat with her purse, waiting for her to make a decision.

It was late, Brenda argued, she hadn't been invited and maybe she was overstepping her boundaries. Would Raydor mind? Would Raydor open the door?

Would Sharon stand there in a flimsy negligee, her wonderful, beautiful, terribly sexy legs shining in the moonlight?

Brenda shook her head at that; she was being ridiculous, clearly. Her head pounding with the stress of the day and this silly little decision to make, Brenda leaned forward, her forehead coming to rest against the steering wheel. Her tummy was churning, she had forgotten to eat and her shoulders ached.

All she wanted was to get out of her bra, have a glass of wine or three and relax.

A bath would have been nice but Sharon, if she opened the door that is, would be nicer.

Well then, Brenda sat up and took the bottle and her purse.

Decision made, she exited her car and began the ascend to Raydor's one story house.

The lights were out as far as she could tell but knocked anyway. She waited for all of two seconds before she rang the doorbell. An eerie feeling came over her as there was no answer - the fact that it was dark and dead-quiet didn't help matters.

Perhaps she wasn't home.

Brenda wanted to ring again when there was a voice coming from inside.

"Who is this?"

The blonde rolled her eyes yet felt nervous. "It's me." That sounded stupid. "Brenda," she added.

Nothing happened for the longest time, the blonde glanced around nervously, feeling a bit displaced, then she heard a series of locks turn and the door open.

Sharon stood there in a robe tightly wrapped around her, not showing off a thing, no cleavage, no legs, no nothing - she did however wear a rather stern expression.

"Hi," Brenda said awkwardly.

Raydor rolled her eyes and opened the door wider in invitation. "I should have never told you where I live."

The blonde stepped inside, feeling out of her element.

"Yes, well...I've still got your key." She held it out.

"What about the wine?" Raydor asked and, Brenda only spotted it then, she leaned the baseball bat she had been holding against the wall by the door.

Brenda eyed it for a moment then Sharon. "I'm sure the police department issued even you a gun, Captain."

Raydor gave her a fake smile and shut the door. "The wine?"

The blonde hid a smirk at her Captain's urgency and preoccupation with the bottle of wine that she was cradling carefully in her arms. "I've had a terrible day at work-"

"Mine was worse," Raydor argued, waving her off, and turning on her heel, her patience running thin.

Scurrying after the woman down the hall, Brenda argued her case. "I thought we could share the wine."

"Leave the key where you found it." Sharon disappeared into the bedroom.

Brenda stopped halfway down the hall. "It's a 1997 McCray Ridge..."

The brunette's head appeared. "Cabernet?"

"Merlot."

Sharon seemed to contemplate it for a moment then came back down the hall. "Gimme that," she relieved the blonde of the bottle and swept into the kitchen.

Brenda followed her like a puppy. "I'm sorry I came by so late but today was just terrible...Commander Taylor practically conned me into takin' this silly case from him and I ended up with a million guns to trace-"

"Shhh!"

"What?"

"Quiet." Raydor had opened a drawer and taken out a cork screw. "I was in bed, reading, my day was horrendous to say the least, as was yesterday-"

"You could've said somethin' 'bout that."

The brunette merely raised an eyebrow then pulled the cork from the bottle. "You could've asked. Not that we were sharing personal details with one another at that point...yet here we are today, conversing over a bottle of wine."

"Exquisite wine."

Raydor didn't comment, instead she got two glasses.

Brenda watched her as she poured the wine, conscious of the fact that the brunette wasn't overly pleased to have found her on her doorstep. Sharon had probably only granted her entrance that quickly because she was too afraid of what the neighbors might think if they saw her.

The blonde bit her lip, internally amused. Her own actions didn't necessarily reflect badly on Sharon but they did give her away; her neighbors, no matter how nosy, wouldn't have automatically come to the conclusion that the woman knocking on Sharon Raydor's door was her lover.

...that they were living next to a lesbian.

Brenda smirked. Raydor was embarrassed, she was walking around thinking everyone could see it.

The blonde picked up her glass, as did Sharon who immediately brought it to her lips.

"To strong, independent women who...," Brenda said, interrupting her rather rude maneuver.

"Don't take any shit?"

The blonde smiled. "Couldn't have said it any better." Brenda clinked her glass with Sharon's and watched her take a sip. The brunette closed her eyes to take it all in and finally hummed with pleasure and the satisfaction of having her expectations met.

Brenda indulged in the sight for a moment then took a sip herself, pleased with her decision and of course the glorious idea of coming here.

Taking another sip, she realized how much she had missed sharing a nice bottle of wine with somebody; Fritz obviously couldn't drink and it was quite clear that Brenda didn't have many friends...nor did she want them...or had time for them.

She rather enjoyed her freedom and the fact that she could be by herself and spend some quality time with her own thoughts. Yet, with Sharon, she could do all those things and drink nice wine...all in one.

"Gorgeous," Sharon husked eventually, observing the swirling dark red liquid in her glass.

Gorgeous, Brenda stared at the woman's lips. _Gorgeous_.

"I liked the dress you were wearin' earlier."

Sharon smiled a little and said, "I know." She took a big sip. "You were in my closet."

"I was not!"

"And you're a terrible liar." Sharon tilted her head, her mood seemed to have improved, and scrutinized the blonde for a moment. "You've not eaten."

Brenda nibbled on her bottom lip. "Nope."

"I have pasta..."

"Sounds nice."

The brunette nodded with finality and opened the fridge. "But just so we're clear," she said, "Your access is restricted to the kitchen, the bathroom..." She trailed off and practically disappeared in the refridgerator.

"And the bedroom?"

Sharon flushed. "We'll see about that."

"Hmm," Brenda hummed and sat at the little table that she had sat at earlier with Lieutenant Provenza, setting her wine glass down delicately. She eyed the coasters stacked neatly at the end of the table and felt compelled to take one.

Good thing they weren't dating, she thought, or else they might drive each other to the brink of insanity and beyond.

While Sharon warmed the food up for her, an uncomfortably domesticated gesture, Brenda felt herself relax despite it. She was oddly at ease, as if Raydor couldn't throw anything her way that she hadn't seen before. They had gotten quite familiar with each other, not that Brenda had the delusion of knowing the woman because she didn't.

Not in the slightest. Sharon was still a stranger to her. She knew her body, knew how she wanted to be touched, where she liked it, where she didn't.

Brenda knew which buttons to push, what to say and when, knew how the woman smelled, tasted, talked, whispered, screamed and laughed, and how it felt to be around her, how her presence, her closeness changed the air in the room, made the hairs on the back of her neck stand, made her feel hot and cold at the same time.

Made her breathless at times.

"Thank you," Brenda said quietly as Sharon put the plate down in front of her. "Looks nice."

Raydor said nothing, she merely sat next to her and watched her with a knowing expression that made Brenda shift in her seat.

"More wine?"

The blonde glanced at her glass. "Yes, please..." It was going right to her head. Sharon was going right to her head.

It was a home-cooked meal, the blonde realized upon her first bite and, for reasons unknown to herself, she felt tears well up in her eyes. She blinked them away and ate, trying to be well-mannered and delicate despite wanting to wolf it down like a starving animal.

For Brenda, eating somebody's home-cooked meal felt rather personal. Her mama was a great cook, and their family dinners were legendary but, Brenda thought with regret, she had never shown an interest and had ultimately never learned.

She knew how to make spaghetti and clams...and mashed potatoes but that was about the extent of her culinary skills.

"So. You're working that guns and ammo robbery?"

Brenda looked up from her plate, surprised, and nodded. "Yes."

"Any leads?" The brunette crossed her legs and her robe parted, revealing her thighs.

"Yes," Brenda stared absentmindedly. "But nothin' substantial. Chief Delk made it quite clear that our main mission was to recover the guns."

Sharon gave her a knowing look. "You better or he might call the ATF on you."

The blonde's bottom lip trembled. "Don't say that."

"I wouldn't put it past him..." Raydor went on conversationally. "He is so far up the FBI's-"

"I wanna stay the night," Brenda interrupted, sounding quite sure. "I mean," she put her fork down, "may I stay the night?"

Sharon narrowed her eyes at her as if to say no and then she covered up her legs as if to make a point and then she said, begrudgingly yet with a defeated tone to her voice, "Okay."

Brenda smiled at her and drank her wine. "So. That Officer Crawler."

"Crawley."

"Whatever. You think he's dangerous?"

Sharon blinked at her, clueless as to what brought on this line of questioning. "I think it wouldn't be advisable or appropriate to discuss this at present." The brunette licked her lip a little.

"Well," Brenda forgot about her pasta. "Lieutenant Provenza is handlin' the investigation. So?" She prompted once more.

The brunette contemplated it for a moment with a very serious expression on her face then her lips parted and she glanced at the wine in her hand. "Off the record?" She asked over the rim of the glass.

Brenda glared at her, partly amused - what else would it be in the middle of the night over wine and pasta?

"He's gone off the deep end."

"Really," the blonde wondered, intrigued. "Why's that?"

Sharon leaned forward in her seat, her lips coming closer, at least that was all Brenda could focus on and then she said, "He's an alcoholic but refuses to get help, he is not very well liked by his peers, he harasses female colleagues, he is remiss in his duties and a liability to the police department."

To blonde took it in, studied Sharon's face, knowing the brunette was waiting for her to jump to Officer what's-his-face's defense but Brenda made the conscious decision not to.

She had always been quick to reject whatever suggestion came out of Sharon's mouth, had dismissed her on numerous occasions and had overruled her decisions unnecessarily.

Brenda knew in that instance, sitting in Sharon's kitchen with wine and pasta while shamelessly enjoying the sight of her naked legs, that she had done it in part because she had been incredibly infatuated with the idea of bedding the woman.

And now that she had achieved such, Brenda tried to rationalize, perhaps she should try to avoid being such a royal bitch.

"This isn't the first time he's shown up and harassed you, is it?"

Sharon seemed surprised at that then nodded. "He has been in and out of FID a few times," she admitted then took a big swig of her wine. "He once waited for me in the parking lot."

Brenda wanted to tell the woman to get a restraining order, to file charges, anything but decided not to. She swallowed heavily; Raydor wouldn't appreciate it. "Well..." She looked up to find Sharon staring into the distance.

"I was scared."

Brenda nodded. "I would've been too."

The brunette's eyes crinkled at the corners as an indulgent smile lifted her lips upwards. "Honey," she patted Brenda's knee. "If he thinks he can win this then he better bring it on."

The blonde smiled. "I feel tipsy." She laughed.

"Me too," Sharon whispered conspiringly. "More wine?"

"My, Cap'n, if I didn't know you any better I'd think you were tryin' to get us both drunk." Brenda held out her glass despite what she had said.

"That would be silly."

The blonde grinned and spoke without thinking, "We both know what happens when you've had too much..." It was the wrong thing to say, Brenda realized as soon as the words had left her mouth. Addressing the pink elephant - Sharon's pink elephant, not that Brenda cared - it was too early for that.

Her tipsy revelation seemed ages ago but ultimately it had only happened yesterday.

Were they supposed to talk about it? Brenda wondered for a split-second, or was she supposed to ignore it? Judging from Sharon's reaction, she suspected it might have been the latter.

The brunette gave her an icy stare, making it quite clear that Brenda just did a horrendous thing. She had betrayed her. The blonde swallowed and put her glass down. "I didn't mean-"

"I told you that I do not want to talk about this, at all. Ever. What part of that did you not understand?"

"You didn't say that," Brenda argued and watched her get up. "You only said not to tell anyone...which I haven't!"

"Oh, boo hoo! Big accomplishment!" Sharon swept out of the kitchen but not without her glass and the left-over bottle of wine.

Brenda scoffed and rolled her eyes, frustrated, and stomped her foot.

_That woman!_

"Ooooh!" She hurried after her.

Sharon had swerved into the bedroom and, as Brenda made it there, she found the woman tossing her robe on the floor. She advanced on her, wearing a flimsy little negligee which, Brenda had been convinced, only beautiful women in movies wore.

"You're not staying," Sharon announced and grabbed her by the shoulder, walking her out of the room. "And I'm keeping the wine."

"Now hold on one minute!"

"Whatever you have to say, I don't care!"

Brenda wrestled her arm free, "Neither do I! I don't care 'bout...'bout _that_!" The blonde sighed and took her Captain in, standing before her, arms crossed over her chest. She knew she wouldn't say the right thing, Brenda knew what she was like, but she couldn't help but try.

After all, if Raydor threw her out, she would have to drive all the way home.

"Sharon...I never say the right things-"

"Then don't."

"But I-"

"No," Sharon silenced her with her hand. "I don't need you to say anything."

Brenda nibbled on her lower lip.

"What do you care anyway?"

"I just do," the blonde said without thinking and regretted it the instant she had, blaming the wine for her loose tongue. "I do care."

"Hmm," Sharon hummed, unimpressed. "I just figured this out," she said evenly, "It took me this long and that's not even the worst part."

Brenda stepped closer. "What is it?" She asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"I can't stand what you've turned me into."

"A lesbian?" The blonde wondered disbelievingly.

If the look Sharon gave her could kill, Brenda would have dropped dead on the spot.

"A cheater."

"Oh. Well..." The blonde pursed her lips, put out and petulant. "You're just as much at fault as I am."

Sharon nodded, once. "True."

"I'm your guinea pig after all..." She shouldn't have said that either, Brenda realized. Taking a deep breath, she studied her companion for a moment, feeling a sudden surge of compassion. "I don't know why I've been so mean to you."

"Have been?"

"I didn't mean to say what I've said in the kitchen! It just came out."

"Has your mother not taught you to think before you speak?"

Brenda shivered at the force of her anger. "You're just..._impossible_!"

And then, rather unexpectedly, Sharon kissed her right on the mouth. Her back hit the wall and she almost slipped out of her shoe as her Captain crashed into her.

Whatever had happened in the woman's brain, it had resulted in this. Brenda was taken aback at the rough treatment, not that she really wanted to object, but even in the throes of passion, her Captain had not behaved this way before.

The blonde felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand in a mixture of fear and excitement. Sharon mouthed her way down her throat, Brenda resisted swallowing nervously as she felt the woman's teeth scrape against her pulse point.

Sharon kissed her collar bone, pulling at her button-up sweater and ripped it open, not that she had meant to, and a button went flying, landing on the hardwood floor.

They both stilled and watched it roll towards the front door where it stopped.

Brenda turned slowly, nervously sucking her bottom lip in, and found Sharon staring at her. Green eyes mapped her face, her lips especially which, and it made Brenda blush to admit it, made her feel self-conscious and somewhat prayed upon.

The blonde swallowed.

"Why don't we-"

"Shhhh," Sharon shushed her with a finger on her lips.

Brenda glanced downwards awkwardly.

"Be. Quiet."

The blonde didn't appreciate being spoken to like that yet felt strangely intimidated - it wasn't the Captain's authoritative tone or her hard stare, it was more the fact that it came as a surprise...as well as Sharon's overpowering proximity that had Brenda weak in the knees.

She slid down the wall a bit in response, telling herself that she would let her Captain continue; after all, she kind of deserved it and perhaps she should make an effort and give her Sharon what she had wanted in the first place - some peace and quiet - before she had intruded upon her evening.

And, Brenda hoped somewhere in the back of her mind, her Captain better appreciate this and apologize for her ripped sweater because usually Brenda was the opposite of quiet and it took her a tremendous amount of self-control to keep her mouth shut.

Raydor pushed her skirt up - it was a blue and white floral design and Brenda wondered briefly how vile Sharon thought it was - then the woman pulled her underwear down her thighs.

Brenda stepped out of them, she had no other choice and lost a shoe in the process. Awkwardly slipping out of the other, she came eye to eye with the woman. There was a brief moment of calm and then Sharon just dragged her down the hall.

Like a ballerina, on her tippy toes, Brenda tried to keep up, feeling her sweater stretch where Sharon had fisted it and was pulling her along. The blonde sucked on her kiss-bruised lip as she was shoved into the bedroom.

She wondered what Sharon had seen reflected back at her, she wondered what was going to happen.

She wondered how stupid it had been to assume she could take anything the woman threw her way.

The robe was still lying on the floor. The wine bottle and Sharon's glass stood on the dresser next to the door. The covers on the bed were thrown to the side and the book Sharon had been reading sat face down on the nightstand.

The woman appeared before her with the glass on its way to her smirking lips as she took in what Brenda knew to be her somewhat bedraggled appearance.

"You ruined my sweater," she said petulantly, pulling at a loose thread which was what remained of the button.

Sharon gave her the glass, not leaving her any choice whether to hold it or not and smiled a little. "You may thank me later."

That answered her earlier question, Brenda thought, evidently Sharon thought her dress and the sweater were horrendously vile.

"What are you doin'?" She wondered as the woman rounded her and opened her nightstand.

Brenda realized right away what it was that Sharon held in her hand as she approached but her brain was slower to catch up.

In disbelieve and almost wonder she watched in a nauseating sense of slow motion as Sharon relieved her rather nonchalantly of the wine glass and then, once it clicked...it clicked.

"Captain!"

"Shhhh!" Sharon shushed her yet again and took a sip of her wine. "I told you to be quiet."

The blonde stamped her foot. "Gimme that key."

Raydor shook her head a little, pulling her along. "Nuh uh..."

"Captain!" Brenda protested yet couldn't bring herself to really resist. "You better release me right this instance!"

"You know," Sharon lifted an eyebrow, "How about pretty please?" She said.

And cuffed her to the bed.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter Forty:**

Under Arrest

Brenda landed on the bed, face down, while the cuff tugged uncomfortable on her right wrist.

The audacity...

The blonde blew at a wayward strand of hair and tried to look up, to catch a glimpse of Raydor, but the startling sensation of cold air wafting over her naked thighs and butt distracted her.

"Captain-" She gasped as the woman pushed her dress up and over her hips. Laying there, exposed, Brenda felt a blush creep over her features. It wasn't like Raydor hadn't seen her naked before, she had in fact seen her naked on numerous occasions, but Brenda felt at a huge disadvantage.

Not that Raydor would really do anything to her, the blonde reasoned and wanted to shake her head at that silly notion.

Not that she couldn't trust the woman.

Brenda breathed out slowly and pulled experimentally on her restraint.

"No, no, no..."

Sharon's voice sounded soft and husky and too close.

"We wouldn't want to leave any marks, would we?"

We wouldn't, Brenda concluded nonsensically, yet another wave of confusion washing over her. Trying to think straight, she pushed herself up on one elbow and glanced over her shoulder, at Raydor sitting between her parted legs, her fingertips barely touching her behind.

The look on her face was one of marvel and distaste at once and Brenda debated for a moment whether to disturb the twisted serenity, the placidness surrounding her Captain.

"Sharon..."

The brunette looked up, snatching her hand back as if it had been burned and, quite unceremoniously, pushed her back down onto the mattress.

Brenda felt the woman's weight on top, the soft material of her nightgown, which could very well be silk, rubbing against her back and her ass while Sharon's thighs straddled her left.

The blonde startled as she felt Raydor shift and her hand move between her legs.

Brenda took a calming breath, its volume slightly impaired by the weight bearing down on her, and decided to argue herself out of the situation. "Sharon," she said, muffled by the sheets. "Get those cuffs off me, right now."

Her heart hammered in her chest as she felt the woman's fingertips against her entrance and even though Brenda had made herself promise not to, she couldn't help but wriggle away and buck her hips in protest.

"Sharon," she warned again, to no avail. "Sharon." The desperation in her voice was an embarrassment but Brenda couldn't help the quaver.

She wasn't scared per se but her heartbeat resounded loudly in her ears. A shiver went down her spine and Brenda shook with the force of it, the anticipation turning her into a breathless, quivering mess. Adrenalin, she concluded and pushed herself up onto her elbow.

"Release me. Now."

Sharon didn't. Instead she forced her fingers inside.

Brenda squeezed her eyes shut, holding back a scream that, if necessary, she could release into the mattress. It wouldn't come however, it sat in her throat like an unspoken confession.

"Don't-" She choked out, not really knowing what it was she didn't want, not that it mattered, her Captain had no intention of stopping. "Sharon-"

Brenda felt as if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs as her Captain, her Sharon, put her hand over her mouth, effectively silencing her for good. The blonde clawed at the woman's wrist, pulling and fighting and tossing like a wild animal, an instinct she wished she could turn off and not act upon.

She wasn't helping herself, Brenda thought and opened her eyes, breathing heavily into the sheets. Sharon thrust into her again, her harsh breaths drowning out everything else. It hurt, Brenda admitted and tried to relax because, if she managed to do that, she knew it wouldn't be so bad.

She was wet, wasn't she?

The blonde squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on that monster in her belly, that warm and unbearably tingly feeling that persisted despite all this or perhaps because of it, Brenda wasn't entirely sure but, nonetheless, she had to let it happen.

She loosened her grip on the woman's wrist yet held on with every thrust, not fighting it, not fighting Sharon even though it took every ounce of self-restraint left within her not to. She debated with herself - she could say stop and, Brenda was absolutely certain that if she really meant it, Raydor would stop.

The blonde relaxed a bit; she had the final say.

Brenda closed her eyes and tried to derive some sort of pleasure from this.

She should end it.

But instead Brenda decided to wait it out, to see what Sharon would do, to see what she herself would do.

She was an utter control freak. Brenda breathed out deliberately, accepting that fact for what it was and comforted by the knowledge that, if she truly wanted to, she could put an end to this.

However, Brenda swallowed, the question remained the same - why didn't she?

The blonde felt deeply disturbed by this and wanted to clamp her legs together in a sudden burst of modesty but found that she couldn't; Sharon's knee dug uncomfortably into her thigh and wouldn't move, leaving her with a burning sensation as her skin reddened.

Brenda wanted to scream...or cry, she wasn't entirely sure until a flash of anger made her insides catch on fire and her vision blur. Essentially, the blonde thought, she was doing this to herself.

Like so many other things.

Perhaps she was a glutton for punishment.

Perhaps she herself was her own worst enemy.

Brenda relaxed, finally, and reveled in the harsh yet clearly not unwelcome intrusion of Sharon's fingers. Sometimes, she figured, you had to let somebody else be mean to you. That's why she was so good at what she did - she didn't allow herself any mistakes.

Not when it came to her work.

And if they dared to attack her, like Raydor had, that woman, Brenda usually didn't waste any more time with them.

The blonde wanted to laugh at the irony, at laying on the woman's bed, cuffed, her legs spread apart while she had god knows what done to her.

Brenda felt drunk, her limbs turning to jelly as the arousal curled along her spine. She moaned against Sharon's hand and thrust her ass into the woman's crotch quite unashamedly.

It was nice.

More than nice.

"Don't speak," Sharon husked and pulled her hand away, uncovering Brenda's mouth. "Shhhhh..." Her fingers stilled deeply inside the blonde as she slowly and deliberately grasped Brenda's hand. She held it tightly and Brenda couldn't help but stare at their entwined fingers.

Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her sense of smell greedily consuming the woman's scent as it slinked around her and caressed her like a silken blanket.

That familiar warmth to it, a hint of sweat, the Merlot on her breath, Brenda almost gulped, and her apparent arousal.

The blonde buried her face in the bedding, the sheets smelling fresh but slept in, and tried not to blush pretty much after the fact. It was the sudden awareness that Sharon's breasts were pressed against her back, her nipples clearly detectable through layers of clothing and the hot wetness of Sharon's sex just barely touching the back of her thigh.

It was the fact that the oh-so-put-together Captain Raydor wasn't wearing any underwear and the knowledge that the woman was just as into it...as wet, Brenda thought with reddened cheeks, as she was, that made the sheer indignation of her own predicament almost bearable.

The blonde bit her lip as Sharon's fingers moved with a deliberate, torturous slowness that could only be acquired through suppressing what Brenda was absolutely certain had to be a very awful and sadistic streak. That woman, she thought, oh that woman...

She whimpered as her Captain, without asking, Brenda added to her own thought process, used yet another finger and entered her with what could only be described as indifference to the blonde's feelings.

In fact, Brenda tried to validate her anger, in fact, she was doing it just for herself.

Sharon. The blonde heard her breathe harshly and squeeze her hand. She had no idea what the brunette was doing exactly but she was pretty sure that she was getting off on it...and that she didn't care in the slightest, not even the littlest bit, what Brenda thought of the whole idea.

Oooooh! The blonde wanted to rip her a new one or at least pull her hair for being such a bitch but her lips wouldn't move. Her brain wouldn't even entertain the idea.

Breathing through the sting, Brenda felt Sharon's silken nightgown ride up even further, her heated skin rubbing against her own and, the blonde pushed her behind into the woman's very motion, her Captain Raydor seemed to enjoy it.

She made a sound in the back of her throat that Brenda knew rather well; she had heard it countless of times before, once when she had pushed her fingers inside the woman, once when she had placed her lips upon Sharon's nipple, once when she had lavished the woman's clit with her tongue.

Oh yes, Brenda thought, breaking out into a cold sweat, oh yes, Sharon liked it like this.

The blonde felt the brunette's teeth scrape over her shoulder blade as her wetness settled against Brenda's thigh - apparently she had given up all pretenses and moved her hips.

Sharon felt deliciously warm and wet against her. Her soft breasts pliantly pressed against her, her taut stomach touching her ass just so but her touch, Brenda felt her own wetness run down the inside of her thigh, her touch wouldn't let her bask in the gloriousness that was Sharon Raydor, wouldn't allow her to let go.

Instead Brenda was distracted from her own arousal with every thrust and every little nip or bite. The blonde tried to swallow but realized that her mouth was dry. She licked her lips.

"Ah," she hadn't meant to say that. Sharon though said nothing, instead she moaned huskily and sunk her teeth into Brenda's shoulder. The blonde felt the sharp pain travel along her spine and elicit an almost stabbing kind of arousal between her legs.

"Sharon," the name tumbled from her lips before she could help it. Brenda wanted to reach for her, prevent whatever Sharon deemed a fit punishment but merely felt the cuff dig into her wrist. The steel rattled against the metal bed frame, a sound in stark contrast to the brunette's heavy breathing.

Brenda stilled for a moment, contemplated the situation and decided to throw caution to the wind. "Let me," she said with a quavering voice. "Pretty please?"

Sharon exhaled against her and moved without starting up yet another discussion. The blonde pulled herself up, her dress a wrinkled mess, sticking to her sweaty body. She chanced a glance at her Captain who sat behind her and nearly gasped at the sight, taking in the disheveled and messed up hair, her glistening chest, the silken slip that had ridden up so high on her thighs that it left nothing to the imagination.

Brenda swallowed and realized she was shivering - whether it was her unbearable arousal or her desire to touch the woman, she didn't know. Not that it mattered. The blonde held her Captain's gaze and ever so slowly slid to the edge of the bed and to the floor.

On her knees and awkwardly holding onto the cuff, trying to prevent it from yanking on her, Brenda knew, just knew, that to make up for all those stupid things she had said, for all those fearful and agonizing thoughts and feelings Sharon had experienced over something she decided Brenda had unearthed, she just had to do this and actually mean it.

The blonde reached out for her Captain, blushing at the unfamiliar feeling of submission and the utter desire of wanting to please somebody more than anything which, Brenda could hardly believe it, sparked a white hot arousal, a want so strong she thought she would devour the woman once she got her hands on her.

Sharon scooted to the edge, the mere seconds seemed to stretch into hours for Brenda, and parted her legs right in front of her. She didn't make a show out of it, she merely sat there for a moment, staring down at Brenda with an intense gaze then leaned back onto her elbows and slid her leg over the blonde's shoulder.

Brenda bit her lower lip so hard when Sharon lifted her eyebrow that she almost yelped then, she had tried very hard not to, her eyes darted downwards.

Lowering her lips slowly towards the woman, Brenda heard her own heart beat drowning out every other sound in the room. She breathed in the familiar scent of Sharon's arousal which was so strong she could almost taste it and ever so gently kissed the warmth, her eyes drifting shut.

Oh, she loved this - the woman's unique taste on her palate and the mere knowledge that she could bring Sharon to the very edge of insanity with this and hold her there for torturous moments.

Brenda gloated inwardly as she elicited a moan from the woman and, glancing up, she saw her head thrown back, her throat exposed and her chest heaving - perfect, Brenda congratulated herself and used her whole tongue; Sharon liked it.

Just when she thought she had regained at least some of her composure as well as a shred of control, Brenda felt Sharon's fingers weave through her hair, fisting it at the back and pushing her exactly where she wanted her.

Not that the blonde hadn't known without her help.

How dare she!

Brenda wanted to reach for her but felt the sharp pain of her restraints instead.

Ooooh, that woman!

Seething somewhat and very nearly biting the brunette, Brenda found herself lured back into the velvety depths of desire she never quite managed to escape when confronted with her Captain and her own want for her. The blonde hummed as her eyes slid shut once more and she felt the softness against her lips, a softness unrivaled by anything.

Sharon's little gasps, how she tightened her grip now and then, gave Brenda an almost meditative sense of satisfaction.

Pleasing the woman in this manner was, in short, amazing. To reduce her to this, to take away all those precisely spoken words, the sharp gazes, the commandeering presence and turn her into this was perhaps the most appealing, the most arousing thing Brenda could imagine.

There was nothing better than to drag her tongue over the woman's clit and make her tremble and gasp and moan with arousal.

Then Sharon moved her hips and pushed harder, as if the blonde didn't have the slightest clue what she wanted or how to get it.

Revenge, Brenda decided and sucked that little nub into her mouth. She knew it wasn't really and that secretly Sharon liked it even though it made her eyes roll back almost instantly.

Brenda couldn't tell if they did but she felt the woman come against her lips.

Sharon pulled her hair and almost moaned as if she didn't want to or maybe her pleasure was so intense it made her see black dots, whichever, Brenda thought it was sexy, so sexy it made her throb between the legs.

Brenda realized she had been holding still and was sitting, unmoving, on the floor, her head buried between the woman's thighs. She drew back slowly, carefully, but Sharon flinched nonetheless. Kissing the inside of her thigh soothingly and unashamedly reveling in the woman's scent, Brenda tried yet again to reach out.

The cuffs rattled.

The blonde sighed into Sharon's warm flesh and balled her fist against the restraints, wanting to touch more than she was able to. "Take 'em off," she said, her voice low and rough with frustration. "Now."

Sharon, still breathing heavily, propped herself up onto her elbows, her leg sliding slowly off Brenda's shoulder.

The brunette stared down at her, wiping a strand of hair out of her face with a shaky hand, extricating herself and pulling at her nightgown. Brenda watched the silky, dark purple material slide down her thighs, covering her only moderately, as Sharon got up off the bed.

She was flushed, Brenda noted with satisfaction, and flustered, still in a post-orgasmic daze. The blonde grabbed her arm and pulled herself up, feeling a renewed desire to push the woman on the bed, pull the silken slip up over her hips and have her.

Brenda flushed at the thought but tried not to show it as she leaned in. She studied Sharon's face, the expression of insecurity and perhaps a little bit of embarrassment, and pressed her lips against the woman's. Sharon made a sound, startled yet pleased, and kissed her back, her shaking hands hesitantly reaching for her and touching her arms with her mere fingertips.

As they broke apart, Brenda turned away, knowing that the desire was plainly visible in her eyes. She rubbed her reddened wrist instead, hoping the cuffs wouldn't leave marks on her, after all, Fritz was to return the next day.

She heard Sharon leave the room, her bare feet padding softly over the hardwood floors in the hallway.

Whatever had just happened, Brenda thought as she stood there, Sharon had needed it and somehow she felt rather pleased at having given it to her. The blonde smiled a bit, almost affectionately, and dropped her hand - she was a strange ranger, her Captain Raydor, and even though Brenda didn't always understand her, even though it was sometimes quite unnerving that she hadn't figured her out, she still kind of enjoyed her presence...at times.

"Hold still."

Brenda jumped slightly as Sharon came up behind her, her arms snaking around her. She could feel the brunette's breath on her neck and throat as she dangled the keys in front of her and, already having tasted freedom, Brenda couldn't believe her eyes when Sharon just tossed them, yes, tossed them onto the bed and out of her reach.

"Captain-"

Her lips ceased moving and her brain stopped thinking as Sharon pressed her body into her backside, aligning their curves, and caressed her neck with the sweetest, alluring kiss Brenda had ever felt.

Or perhaps, she mused dazedly, Sharon had just found her on-switch.

"Oh for heaven's sakes," she mumbled as her eyes drifted shut at the somewhat Ding Dong-like feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Brenda leaned back into the woman, knowing she was giving her permission, yet again, to do whatever she pleased but the blonde felt little worry, instead she couldn't help but let her Captain have her way for she was in no state to protest.

She felt rather desperate, and it didn't matter that she was still practically chained to the bed, especially once Brenda realized where this was going as Sharon, seemingly in a hurry, pulled up her skirt, fisting it in one hand while the other, and Brenda particularly liked that part, went straight between her legs.

She didn't want to seem easy, she really very nearly resisted but then she couldn't help herself and widened her stance, just a tiny bit, and if she could have, she would have put the woman's hand exactly where she wanted it.

Patience really wasn't one of her strong suits.

Not that Sharon was taking her time.

Brenda wanted to gasp but her breath was stuck in her throat at the surprising intrusion of Sharon's fingers. She had still felt them within her from earlier as the woman had roughly taken her and was fully prepared for the same treatment yet again but her Captain seemed to have changed the rules.

Her fingers rested inside her, her palm covering Brenda's sex gently as she applied just a torturous hint of pressure. The blonde felt her head loll back even though she felt slight embarrassment at being so wet and ready for it.

She tilted her head to the side, resting it against Sharon's as the woman began to move agonizingly slowly and reached back, trying to find something to hold onto. She briefly managed to weave her fingers through Sharon's mane then grabbed onto the arm around her waist as she became unexpectedly weak in the knees.

She leaned back, knowing her Captain wouldn't let anything happen to her and indulged in the electrifying, toe-curling feeling of her Sharon's touch.

She was terribly good at it, Brenda thought as the woman pushed her hand down, increasing the pressure.

"Oh..." She sighed, her fingernails digging into the woman's arm. "Sharon..." Brenda couldn't believe how close she was already, how unbearably much she wanted it, desperately yearned for it after what the woman had done to her.

"Sharon," she whispered once more and tried to force her where she wanted her, tugging at the metal cuffs in frustration, her need overwhelming her as her Captain, that wicked, wicked woman, wouldn't hurry up already. She was so close, so terribly, close, Brenda could taste it, felt it hovering just beyond her reach and she knew that Sharon knew and that she was doing it on purpose.

Her knees grew weaker as the woman moved her fingers, barely, the palm of her hand sliding over her clit in a way that made her almost pass out. It was too much yet not enough that sizzling hot, all-consuming feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. It was driving her insane.

"Oh, Sharon," she said, not above begging for it if that was what it had to come down to. "Don't stop." Biting her lower lip, Brenda hoped that, if she kept it up like that, if Sharon just kept going for however long it took, she might reach her breaking point and just come.

"I like how you feel inside."

Brenda was surprised that Sharon spoke but took it in instead, listened to her gravelly voice in her ear, let the vibrations of it hum along her spine and tingle between her legs, fueling her arousal.

"I've never wanted it this much."

Oh, Brenda thought, she knew exactly of which 'it' her Sharon was talking about. They had only done it yesterday, twice, they had barely managed to keep away from each other over the past few months and here they were, yet again!

The blonde wondered briefly how many more times they would have to do it until she didn't feel that untameable, raging, wild desire for the woman – how many more times until she didn't want to feel Sharon's fingers inside her anymore and come around them?

"Oh, please, Sharon," she whined.

"I've never..."

"Yes?" Brenda moved her hips a little, trying to speed things up.

"I've never wanted to...I've never-"

"What? You've never what? Please..." The blonde's eyes rolled back as her Captain finally pushed down harder and moved faster, just the right way, just so. "Oh, yes!"

"Oh, god," Sharon said with a quavering voice. "I've never wanted to," she forcefully pushed her fingers deeper inside. "I've..."

"I want you to say it," Brenda ordered, "Say it, Captain."

The brunette exhaled against her shoulder and Brenda instinctively knew that she was blushing. "I've—I've never wanted to," she paused and leaned in, her lips only inches away from Brenda's ear. "Fuck..."

The blonde felt her insides liquify and turn to molten lava.

"I've never wanted to fuck anyone."

"Anyone?" Brenda asked and wailed.

"Anyone. Ever." She chuckled darkly which sent a shiver down Brenda's spine. "Catholic girls don't do that."

"Southern girls don't either." The blonde swallowed and focused on her Captain's touch. "But I want it too." She admitted because the truth was that all that they had done so far was exactly that. "Oh, please, Sharon, I can't stand it!"

And then, to Brenda's utter horror, the woman pulled her fingers out. "Oh, Cap'n Raydor, I am gonna do horrible things to you!"

Sharon didn't retort, she merely turned her around and pushed her up against the cold metal of her bed frame. Brenda winced, resisting the urge to claw the woman's eyes out then realized what she was about to get and decided it would be wise to clamp her mouth shut.

She pulled her Captain towards her, even though she was already halfway there and kissed her, once, tasting her. Her skirt was back around her waist in an instant, her leg hoisted up on the woman's hip and her fingertips sliding over her clit, spreading the wetness over her nub.

"Inside," Brenda said, trying to make it sound like an order and failing. "Please, inside, now."

Sharon did just that; she entered her with one deep thrust, silencing Brenda with her lips, not that she minded, and – the blonde was sure not many had gotten Sharon to say this out loud – proceeded to fuck her against her bed frame.

It was glorious, Brenda thought and then stopped thinking altogether, realizing that her unbearable arousal was about to culminate in a mind-blowing orgasm. "Oh, yes!" She moaned against the brunette's lips. "Yes...Sharon, oh yes!"

Her whole body tensed and she felt the hardness of the woman's fingers within her as her walls clutched at them. "Ooooh...yes..." It was good, Brenda almost sobbed with the intensity of her pleasure, it was better than good.

Sharon kissed her and held her upright somewhat and then she was pulling the zipper down at the back of her neck.

Brenda wondered briefly what the woman was about to do to her next.

"Stay there."

Sharon retrieved the keys then and undid the cuffs; Brenda couldn't care less about the irritated skin on her wrist, she also didn't mind her dress falling to the floor as she barely managed to crawl onto the bed.

It seemed like a mere moment later when she heard the water run somewhere.

Where had Sharon gone?

Brenda sighed into the sheets and drew her knees up.

Then she decided to just rest her eyes.


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter Forty-One:**

The Long and Winding Road

Brenda pulled the silk robe tighter across her chest, her somewhat ampler breasts straining against the material. She pushed her hair back behind her ears repeatedly, trying to sort out the mess she had been left in.

Sharon had a very slight frame, Brenda thought, but it wasn't always noticeable beneath those little suits she was wearing.

This was awkward, the blonde admitted and splashed more water onto her face, and wondered whether to just drive home after all.

Should she feel guilty for just leaving the woman right after what some would call a booty call?

Before Brenda could come to a decision, she remembered having one too many glasses of wine.

Going home wasn't an option.

And calling a cab would seem entirely too desperate.

The blonde opened the bathroom door and peered out cautiously; upon discovering the hallway deserted, she dashed out and down the hall where she picked up her purse and rifled through it on the hunt for something sweet.

She came up relatively empty beside a small wrapped candy.

Blowing out a huge breath, Brenda proceeded towards the bedroom, steeling herself and entered quietly. Sharon sat on the right side of the bed, the blanket pulled up to her waist.

Her glasses perched on her nose, her hair somewhat fallen into her face, Sharon looked at anything but her.

Brenda bit her lip and took the left side - her side - clutching her purse to her chest. She went through it once more, deciding that, as bad as it was, it didn't have to be, and found her cell phone.

She hesitated for a moment before she placed it onto the night stand.

Then Sharon cleared her throat.

Brenda nibbled on her lower lip as she turned to face the woman and what she realized to be a glass of wine. She stared at it for a moment then glanced at Sharon before she took it.

"Wouldn't want to waste it," the brunette said demurely and poured herself a glass, emptying the bottle in the process. "It's exquisite wine after all."

Brenda couldn't help but smile a little as she took her first sip. Slipping under the warm covers, she turned towards Sharon, giving her a once over as the woman took her glasses off. "I'm sorry we fought."

The brunette chuckled a bit, pulling her legs up to her chest. "That's what we seem to be doing all the time." Sharon said then added nonchalantly, "Good thing we aren't dating."

Brenda nodded, smirking, "That's what I was thinkin'."

The brunette chuckled into her glass and sipped, amused at their exchange.

"Sharon?" Brenda came closer, sitting next to her, cradling her glass of wine as she observed the raised eyebrow and the contour of the woman's lips. "We could get along if we wanted..." She trailed off.

"Do you?" Sharon asked almost immediately, holding her gaze, all traces of avoidance gone from her demeanor. "Want to, that is?"

The blonde felt her body relax as a weight seemed to lift from her and a strange sense of peace washed over her. "Yes." And that was the truth, she realized. "I like you just fine."

Sharon gave her that smile that Brenda just adored, her eyes shone with warmth and a sort of fondness that made the blonde feel soft on the inside. "I like you too," Sharon said, seeming even more bemused as she patted the blonde's knee.

"I hope that don't mean we can't hate each other at work anymore," Brenda interjected quickly.

"God no," Sharon shook her head furiously. "I love it."

Brenda's smile grew and she laughed a bit, almost snorting dorkily in the process and leaned back against the headboard. As she calmed herself, fighting the flush that had come across her features, Brenda's thoughts drifted as she mapped the other woman's features.

That familiar stranger, she mused and reached out without meaning to. She touched Sharon's cheek with her fingertips and Sharon let her, her expression changing to one of slight confusion and wonderment.

"I know I don't say the right things," she explained again, dropping her hand, "And I don't really know you anyhow but from what I can see..." Brenda reached for her hand and squeezed it, silencing whatever protest was on the tip of Sharon's tongue. "Whatever you figured out about yourself...it's a good thing...now that you're sure."

Sharon stared at her then averted her eyes and gulped the last bit of her wine, taking a deep breath as if to compose herself.

As she turned back, she looked her steely Captain-Raydor-self, a faint smile on her lips. Brenda gave her a smile in return and pulled the wine glass from her hand, depositing it on the nightstand with her own.

When she faced the woman again, tears were streaming down her cheeks. "I apologize," Sharon said with utter calmness yet wiping at her eyes. "I am terribly sorry."

Brenda felt frozen in place, staring at the glistening teardrops, shocked and not knowing what to do. Hugging her would probably be the most logical course of action but it was Sharon, Captain Raydor, and Brenda couldn't imagine any universe where that would be an acceptable thing to do.

"I know this isn't what you signed up for," Sharon went on, letting out a humorless laugh.

The blonde shook her head a little, emerging from her frightened state. "Sharon," she said and reached out, feeling a warmth within herself that pulled her in the woman's direction.

"I'm just having a hard time," the brunette explained, now dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "A hard time with...all this."

"I understand," Brenda whispered and held her hand.

Sharon gave her one of those smiles, patting their joined hands, and for a moment Brenda was sure she was going to call her honey again. "I don't think you do."

The blonde's bottom lip wobbled. "My Daddy-" She hiccuped, "He wouldn't want anything to do with me anymore if he knew what I was doin'."

The brunette nodded. "I don't want to do this anymore."

Brenda sucked her lip in.

"But I need this too much right now." She took a deep calming breath, tears drying.

Relief. "Sharon," she swallowed. "I'm...I'm the bad one...you're just..." She averted her gaze. "You're just-"

"Going along with it?"

Brenda sighed, feeling actual regret. "That's not what I meant." The blonde bit her lip. "I'm..." She swallowed heavily, feeling flustered at what she was about to admit. "I'm takin' advantage of you. I need this and you were there..."

Brenda trailed off as she saw that barely there smirk appear on Sharon's face.

Then the brunette shook her head a bit. "I'm married."

The blonde's face fell.

"Separated." Sharon leaned back a bit. "And I've been taking advantage of you as well." She paused and narrowed her eyes. "Or did you think that I was completely enamored with your southern charm and had fallen hopelessly in love...or lust with you?"

Brenda lifted an eyebrow. "I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer."

"Well," Sharon went on, "I've used you all along...we're both married." She tilted her head a little. "I think we're even."

"Even?" The blonde huffed. "I didn't know you were married."

"Separated."

"And that's a mitigatin' factor how?"

"Nothing can ever happen between us," Sharon said loudly, talking right over Brenda. "Aren't you happy about that?"

"Happy?"

For the first time Brenda saw real frustration on the woman's face. "Bad choice of words." Sharon gathered herself, her eyes momentarily fixed onto the ceiling like so many times before. "Emotionally nothing can ever happen between us and I am...grateful for that fact. Aren't you?"

Brenda studied her then rolled her eyes. "That's why you've been usin' me, isn't it? You picked me because I'm married, not despite it. I'm a safe choice." Sharon looked at her stoically but experience told her that there was a whole lot more going on beneath the woman's stony facade.

"At least I didn't lie to you."

Sharon scoffed and she was about to defend herself when the fight seemingly left her.

"Separated?" Brenda asked uncertainly, worried, and drew her legs up. "Is that my fault? Did I do that?"

"No," Sharon said immediately and the blonde was grateful for the quick answer. "Long story."

Brenda felt oddly relieved as silence washed over them. She stared at Sharon, aware that she was doing it, yet refused to look away. She tried to see the woman, tried to catch a glimpse of what she was so desperately trying to hide and suddenly, as Sharon glared at her with narrowed eyes, Brenda realized that everything was rather glaringly obvious.

"I've got you all figured out, Sharon Raydor."

The brunette swallowed and Brenda knew that she had hit a nerve; that was her fear, she concluded, being figured out.

"You are terrified."

"I am not...terrified," Sharon said quietly and stared right back at her, seemingly fearless.

Brenda wanted to chuckle and call her 'honey' for a change, placatingly patting her knee, but did no such thing; instead she analyzed further, despite her instincts telling her not to.

She didn't know why she couldn't just leave things the way they were, why she couldn't just leave the woman alone, all Brenda knew was that Sharon Raydor wasn't who Brenda had thought she was.

In fact, she had gotten it all wrong.

"This isn't wreckin' your life," Brenda said slowly as if talking to a child.

"That's easy for you to say." Sharon said under her breath.

"Just because you figured this out doesn't mean that everything else was a lie."

The brunette averted her gaze and fiddled with the sheets. "I've come to realize that I've always been...like this. My entire life."

Brenda nodded, unimpressed and somewhat unsympathetic. "So? I'm assumin' you're not exactly unhappy with how things turned out."

"You're simplifying the matter."

"You are complicatin' it. And," Brenda said loudly before Sharon could say anything. "And, it's not a dirty word, you know? Lesbian. See? Easy as that."

"Oh, please..."

"Gay. See?"

Sharon flung the covers aside, unnerved.

"Homosexual."

"Stop." She said and swung her legs out.

"Dyke." Brenda glared up at her as she stood there, angry yet on the verge of tears.

"Be. Quiet."

The blonde pulled the robe open a bit, showing off a hint of cleavage, pointedly glaring at the Captain. "You and I both know that we've been called that plenty times behind our backs. There was even a time when we joked about it!" She reached out and pulled Sharon back onto the bed.

"That's different."

Brenda scooted closer. "Because now it's true? Because now you don't just 'think' you're a lesbian...because now you know?"

Sharon didn't respond, instead she fully got into bed again, a rather sour expression on her face.

She hated this, Brenda realized, she hated what all this had uncovered and all because they both couldn't help themselves. The blonde wondered briefly why, her gaze becoming distant, lost in thought.

"Would you mind if I called you a cab?"

Brenda looked up, her eyes connecting with Sharon's. "A cab?" She asked, the words not making sense to her.

"Would you like to go home?"

"I'm not goin' anywhere," the blonde retorted. "Just because you're havin' a meltdown I'm not gonna drive across the city-"

"Meltdown?"

"-in the middle of the night-"

"You live fifteen minutes away!"

"-and miss most of my sleep. I've got a very busy day tomorrow."

Sharon scowled then added, for good measure, "And I don't?"

"How would I know," Brenda retorted. "I don't even know what you're doin' half the time anyway."

The brunette scoffed uncharacteristically. "And just for the record," she said, "I am not having a 'meltdown'."

"Well then," Brenda went on, "Stop throwin' yourself a pity party. It's _very_ unbecomin'." The blonde eyed her for a moment. "Besides, you're sleeping with women now...you didn't contract an incurable disease."

Sharon glared at her mildly as the whole conversation delved into the realm of ridiculous. "You were the one who didn't want to talk about personal issues. This is my issue. Let's not talk about it, shall we?"

"You brought it up," Brenda pointed out and wished she hadn't.

"I've got no idea what came over me."

The blonde crossed her arms over her slightly exposed chest. "And to think we decided to get along..."

"Great how that's working out."

"I've been nothin' but nice but then you had to go on and on-"

"Brenda." Sharon interrupted. She looked like she had had it, the blonde concluded, suddenly feeling rather anxious. She liked when they bickered and fought and Brenda was pretty sure that Sharon liked it also but, perhaps, she had gone a bit too far this time.

After all, it seemed this whole thing was a rather big affair for the Captain.

Brenda though didn't see the point.

"I knew before we even slept together," Sharon said almost conversationally. "That night, in the hotel room, it confirmed everything." She sighed and looked at Brenda with a blank expression. "I know what I said but at that point I had not fully grasped the implications of..."

She trailed off, shaking her head a little.

"Sharon?" Brenda tried to catch her gaze. "You should quit, is what. Quit thinkin' about what could've been." The blonde felt the sympathy then, she could relate this time, she knew of 'what ifs' and 'buts' and 'might have beens'.

"What's done is done..."

"That's no consolation whatsoever."

"You can't hold onto things," Brenda argued. "Sometimes you make mistakes, sometimes they end up bein' happy accidents-"

"So you call decades of denial," Sharon interrupted, "my failed marriage, not that I could've changed anything, seeing as I was set up for failure to begin with-"

"Yes," Brenda interrupted.

"Happy accidents?"

"Yes." The blonde gave her a smile. "I doubt you would've done all that much different anyhow."

"Maybe the marriage part," Sharon interjected.

"Perhaps," Brenda patted her leg then. "People are who they are...they seldom change."

The brunette's features relaxed a bit and she gave Brenda a look that she had not yet seen on her Captain's face, a look of respect, of acceptance and admiration.

She wasn't the dumb blonde anymore.

"I have tried to come to terms with it but...I cannot talk to anybody. My family," she swallowed and shook her head a little, her eyes narrowed. "I don't feel...confident," she wanted to say 'comfortable', Brenda was sure, "to share this...information," secret, "with them," anybody, "yet." Ever.

Brenda sucked her lower lip in, hiding her slight amusement behind the gesture and sighed. "I'm here," she said, surprising herself. "I know all about it so...talk."

Sharon stared at her, her jaw going slack for a moment. "Uh..." She narrowed her eyes. "Well."

"Sharon?"

"Yes?"

"Just...take a breath, have more wine, eat a big..._giant_ cake and get over it."

"That's your solution?"

"Course. Nothin' else you can do."

Sharon smiled, bemused. "Do you remember when I told you that you are not my friend?"

"Oh, yes, I remember..."

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I would say that it's starting to look otherwise."

"Really?" Brenda grinned and stared. Friends? Not a chance. No more than a kerosene cat in hell.

The blonde bit her lip. "I don't know what the big deal is..."

Sharon's eyes grew distant, her lips curled, not in a smile but in a way that Brenda always thought to be intriguing then she smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear and parted her lips, the words seemingly hovering on her tongue for a moment.

"I want to know who I am..."

"And you think this is who you are?" Brenda uncrossed her arms, briefly noted the somewhat panicked expression on Sharon's face when she reached out for her hand and placed it right onto her chest.

The brunette flushed uncharacteristically and stared at their joined hands. "Not...exactly."

"Let me tell you somethin', Cap'n Raydor," she said, hoping to sooth the woman's mood somewhat. "You're still as antagonizin', as pedantic and uptight as ever."

Sharon swallowed convulsively, her expression impassive as they sat there. "Thank you."

"I mean it," Brenda went on and smirked a bit, squeezing Sharon's hand that, in turn, squeezed her breast. "The only difference is that you're less of a bitch." She glanced down nonchalantly and worked on the sash of her robe.

"Maybe because I get laid now," Sharon retorted evenly but with a glint in her eyes that Brenda was all too familiar with.

"Maybe because you found somethin' you're really good at?" The robe fell open, Brenda briefly felt the chill hit her naked skin and her Captain's gaze trail over her body then their eyes connected.

Sharon looked coy, Brenda thought, yet bemused at the same time and the blonde felt a tingle in her chest at having elicited those feelings. She felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips as she scooted closer even and, with a challengingly raised eyebrow, straddled Sharon's lap.

"If you ask me, Captain," Brenda swallowed as she let go of Sharon's hand, giving her free reign. "You're very, _very_ good at this."


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter Forty-Two:**

Happy Family

The brunette hesitated for a moment, perhaps to torture her further, Brenda assumed, then slowly squeezed her breast, her fingertips trailing over her pert nipple.

She had her then, Brenda knew it but was also aware of her Captain's uncertainty. She wondered how long it would take for the woman to grow into this. Nothing had changed as far as Brenda was concerned and whoever thought Raydor was a dyke would continue to think so; appearances meant nothing to the blonde, however, she had come to realize that they did mean something to Sharon.

She didn't care about what people thought of her, per se, she cared about what kind of person they thought her to be.

"You're the most stand up person I know."

Honorable would have been too much, besides, that was her Daddy. But Sharon Raydor was nothing if not true to her word.

Brenda silenced any protest by pressing a finger to Sharon's lips. "I mean it."

The brunette said nothing yet her expression spoke for her, she merely leaned forward, her head coming to rest against Brenda's chest, and let her hand trail lower.

The blonde felt her breath hit her skin as one hand caressed her thigh and the other crept up her back and around. She knew where it was going and waited for it, loving how Sharon touched the pliant flesh of her breasts - a man's touch just didn't compare - and inhaled sharply as the woman squeezed her nipple.

"How good?"

The blonde took a shaky breath and opened her eyes. She stared for a moment, her brain slowly catching up.

"How good?" Sharon asked again with an urgency in her voice as her hand trailed up Brenda's thigh and between her legs, her fingertips, cool in contrast to Brenda's heat, sliding smoothly over her clit.

The blonde licked her lower lip, taking in the sensations one by one before she spoke, reveling in them, in the woman's silken touch. "The best I've ever had," she said and moaned gently as Sharon's fingers stroked just the right spot.

"I slept with my best friend once."

Brenda closed her eyes and nodded, she knew Sharon didn't want to be looked at, besides, the woman was softly caressing her nipple and the want for more was driving her insane.

"We were 15. Her name was Jennifer."

_Oh..._

The blonde's brain reeled for a moment - what else had the woman lied about? - then Sharon slipped a finger inside her, it slid effortlessly into the warm wetness, almost too easily, and Brenda wished she would add another one just so she could properly feel her.

"I should've slept with women all my life."

"Women?" Brenda pried her eyes open and smirked. "Big plans, Captain?"

Sharon smirked back then sobered suddenly and went still. "I regret having lost all these years." She tilted her head contemplatively. "And I feel immense...guilt...for having such thoughts."

Brenda understood. "Sounds to me like you're mourning a loss..."

"Perhaps," the brunette husked, withdrawing her finger again and sliding it slowly over Brenda's clit.

The blonde's eyes nearly rolled back in her head but she managed to hold onto her Captain's shoulders. "You know what I think?"

"Enlighten me."

"I think you should start makin' up for what you missed out on."

"Hmm," Sharon hummed, squeezing Brenda's nipple just the way she liked it which sent an electric bolt of arousal right down between her legs. "How do you propose I do that, Chief Johnson?"

"Well," Brenda whimpered at the feather light touch. "I think you should stop talkin'."

"And then what?"

"And stop teasin' me. We both know terrible things happen when you do that."

"We wouldn't want that, would we?"

Brenda trembled as the woman's fingertips slid over her nub, aware of how blatantly aroused she was and of how terribly obvious it must be to Sharon, but she found it impossible despite all of it to hold still. She moved her hips, trying to feel more but the woman moved seemingly in sync with her, denying her.

"Captain Raydor!"

"Yes, Chief?"

The blonde shivered at the intensity of the feathery touch. "Captain, please."

Fingertips slid slowly over her aroused nub, petulantly avoiding a firmer touch, the maddening, electrifying sensation on her still sensitive clit, sending an involuntary shiver down Brenda's spine.

"Sharon..." She whispered, her voice too weak to protest. "Please, Sharon." Brenda sighed contently as the woman licked her hardened nipple, her hand squeezing her breast just so then the warmest, softest lips enveloped her areola, engulfing it in liquid, silken heat.

The blonde moaned as everything seemed to fall away, as her world shrunk and remained concentrated in the sensation of Sharon's mouth sucking on her nipple.

She did that so well. "Oh, yes..."

Her fingers moved between Brenda's legs - finally! - drawing slow circles amidst the wetness of her utterly aroused sex. The blonde nearly collapsed, it was almost too much, but held onto her Captain, cradling her head to her chest, hoping she wouldn't stop swirling her tongue over and around her nipple.

It almost hurt, her touch on the verge of unbearable, but Brenda knew from experience that her Sharon was a tease and that she would inevitably get what she wanted.

Two fingers slipped inside her, filling her - somewhat satisfactorily, Brenda thought, but not enough - and a warm palm cupped her sex.

The blonde bit down on her lower lip as her Captain's hand slid down her back and grabbed her ass, her short fingernails digging into her skin as she pulled her closer. Brenda felt the woman deeper inside and couldn't help but moan as she hit just the right spot.

Brenda tingled and breathed in the pleasant scent of her Captain's hair, squeezing her eyes shut in her desire to experience Sharon and Sharon only, enveloping herself in her smell, her warmth, the feel of her skin and the silken slip she was wearing.

Moving her hips, and finding that she was allowed to, Brenda released a strangled moan, a sound she barely managed to force from the back of her throat, as the woman's palm slid wetly over her nub and her fingertips, buried within her, pressed into her flesh.

She felt Sharon's lips against her chest, her teeth scraping against her nipple as she abandoned it, pert and sensitive from her licks and bites, and licked along Brenda's collar bone.

"Nnn..." She didn't want that, Brenda wished she could protest, she wanted the other thing, Sharon had to know that.

The blonde tilted her neck as the woman nosed along it, nibbling and tasting while the hand between Brenda's legs slowed a bit, setting a maddening pace that wouldn't satisfy her.

Weaving her fingers through thick, brown hair, pulling on it in frustration and in the hopes that the woman wouldn't tease her any further, Brenda decided to take things into her own hands; after all, if you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself.

The blonde reached up, the silk robe falling from her shoulder, and cupped her own breast, flinching as she touched her sensitive nipple. She sighed into Sharon's hair, squeezing gently, and enjoying it almost as much as the other woman's touch, when her hand was batted away quite unceremoniously and twisted behind her back.

"Ah!" Brenda yelped a bit, arousal forgotten momentarily. She wouldn't have it, not again, and to make her point, she yanked the woman's head back and pressed her lips against hers, engaging Sharon in a deep, wet and passionate kiss that made her toes curl.

Freeing her arm and getting hold of her Captain's wrist, she placed her warm palm where she wanted it - she didn't need help moving her hips, she could do that by herself just fine - and ended the kiss with a loud moan.

"Oh, Cap'n..." She cooed, her head lolling back and her eyes closing involuntarily as Sharon squeezed her nipple between her fingers, giving it a lick that made Brenda shiver with desire.

Moving her hips again, Brenda gleefully realized that Sharon was done teasing; her Captain pushed her palm against her clit and her fingers inside, matching Brenda's pace, making it good for her.

It wouldn't take her long, that was for sure and Brenda knew that Sharon knew.

Draping herself all over the woman, clawing on her just to maybe get that bit more from her, the blonde opened her eyes and stared at the cream colored wall. For a moment her mind went blank and a sensation of weightlessness came over her, she felt dread and shame, the reality of what she had done and was still doing eating away at her.

"Brenda..."

As quickly as the feelings had come, as quickly they passed when Sharon said her name, albeit hoarsely, and pulled her back into their little world with her touches, her kisses, her quiet gentleness, her commandeering forcefulness.

The blonde let her eyes slide shut, utterly at peace, and breathed in the comforting scent of her Captain's hair. "That feels so good," she said, surrendering and letting go of the day's hardships and grievances. "Oh, Sharon..." She moaned and sighed in pleasure, and felt, for the first time, something resembling joy at the fact that the fingers inside her, the lips caressing her skin, the palm tightly pressed against her sex, was Sharon's.

Brenda opened her eyes, shocked for a brief moment as she realized that Sharon Raydor wasn't a nobody to her anymore, that it did matter that it was her she was sleeping with, that the woman had touched more than her body.

The blonde shuddered, not in pleasure but in fear, and pulled Sharon's head back to stare at her. She wanted to stop it, tell her that they had to quit immediately, that things couldn't go on like that, that she better take her hands off of her but Brenda's desire for what the woman could give her was too strong.

Her hips kept moving, faster even, her need for this wouldn't let them stop, she couldn't help but want Sharon inside her, she couldn't help but feel her skin rub against her clit, she couldn't help but wanting to come.

"Ah..." Brenda gasped, her pleasure almost painful. "How'd'you do this to me?"

Sharon's eyes widened at the question, her lips parted and Brenda could feel her exhale, their breaths mingling.

"I want you so much," she said, confessing, not that it was the first time she had done so when Sharon had her like this, on the brink. "You do things to me..."

"You do things to me," the brunette responded.

Brenda stared into those green eyes, angry yet shocked. "I feel like I can never quit you."

If Sharon felt anything, she was good at hiding it, Brenda thought, regretting her words but she had to admit it, knowing that she would have to quit this, quit Sharon, sooner rather than later.

The thought scared her; how would she go on without the woman? Without this?

"I can't quit you either," Sharon then said. "I've tried."

Brenda felt her heart sink, terror making it ache - she had tried? The blonde searched the woman's face, her body feeling strangely heavy.

She stopped moving.

"Maybe we should think about-"

"No, no, no, no, no." Brenda batted the woman's hand away and got off her lap. "We're not gonna think about anything right now."

"Brenda..."

"Sharon." The blonde sat awkwardly.

The brunette gave her a nonchalant look as she came closer on her knees. "I didn't mean now."

Brenda tried to appear defiant but when the woman pushed her back onto the bed and pried her legs apart, she couldn't help but be thankful.

Sharon dipped her head, her soft wavy hair tickling the insides of Brenda's thighs. She felt the woman's warm lips engulf her clit, sucking and licking her into delirious oblivion.

At least, Brenda thought, she made it all go away again.

The blonde swallowed as she felt Sharon's tongue on her nub, stroking it with a precision she had never known existed.

"That...is entirely unfair," she protested and flung an arm over her eyes. "Oh, for heaven's sakes, you're good at that."

Sharon pushed her legs further apart, humming, sucking her into the liquid, molten heat that was her mouth.

Brenda felt her thighs quiver in response, and she couldn't look anywhere for the room was spinning around her, then she reached down and wove her fingers through thick, silky hair, resisting the urge to fist it.

"Ooooh," she cooed and reached for her own breast, caressing it. "Sharon..." She had wanted to say something but the woman had made her forget it.

Brenda flushed suddenly as she realized she was pulling her Captain's hair somewhat, all in the throes of passion, obviously, but the mere fact that Sharon made her lose her mind like this was embarrassing enough.

The things she did to her, the blonde bit her lower lip and glanced downwards. She caught a glimpse of auburn waves of luscious hair sprawled over her lap and went limp at the sight.

"Oh-" Her moan turned into a strangled gasp as Sharon sucked on her again, sucked her nub into her mouth, she just knew how to, and her eyes rolled back in her head. A hot flush came over her and for a moment Brenda felt like she was perspiring from every pore, then, "Oh, yes, Sharon!"

She came.

Brenda wailed as she felt herself pulse and throb against the woman's lips for the longest time. Weightless, powerless, Brenda clamped her thighs around her Captain's head in a feeble attempt to stop her from moving.

Lips parted in a silent moan, her muscles contracting on their own, Brenda wanted to scream or cry or die, and whoever had added the word 'bliss' to orgasmic, had no idea what they were talking about.

Torture, she thought, her thighs quivering as her orgasm continued and Sharon's tongue swept over her pulsing nub, just to be mean, Brenda was convinced then she finally released her,.

The blonde's legs fell apart and she managed to let go of the woman's hair, prying her fingers apart. She flung both arms over her eyes, breathing heavily, slightly embarrassed at her state yet when Sharon moved from between her legs, Brenda couldn't care less about modesty.

She felt the woman's body next to her, the silken slip she was wearing soft against her skin, and Sharon's fingertips trailed over her belly.

Brenda flung her arms onto the bed and stared up into Sharon's eyes, curling her toes as she managed to pull her legs together.

"Good?"

The blonde barely managed to suppress a grin. "Very good," she whispered conspiringly and watched Sharon's eyes shine.

They didn't kiss.

"I have a...guest room, if you'd rather-"

"No, nope." Brenda bit her lip and sat up slowly. "I'm fine." She managed to get under the covers, pulling the robe up and wrapping it around her body. "I just need some sleep, is all."

Sharon nodded and started moving. "Alright." Under the covers, she reached for the light switch. "Goodnight."

Brenda rolled over. "Night."

A moment of silence went by then she heard Sharon breathe in and out.

"You know what?" Brenda sat up. "I'll take the guest room-"

"Of course." The brunette turned the light on.

"It's just not-it's just-"

"Weird."

"Exactly. Thank you...Cap'n, I mean, Sharon."

"You're welcome."

Brenda flung the covers aside and slid out with a questioningly arched eyebrow.

"Next door."

Nodding, the blonde crossed the room, aware of the fact that the flimsy robe barely covered anything, and opened the door to the hallway.

Turning around one last time, Brenda put a smile on her face. "See you tomorrow."

* * *

She heard it faintly, in the distance while she was racing to the airport. She had the sirens blaring but the cars wouldn't move and if she didn't make it in time, her parents, her poor Daddy and her poor Mama, wouldn't have anyone to pick them up.

Then the lights were turned on.

Brenda opened her eyes and stared at Sharon Raydor for a moment.

The woman shuffled into the room, eyes almost closed in an effort to stay as asleep as possible while she held out what Brenda realized to be her cell phone.

"Provenza," Sharon said as the ringing continued.

Brenda stared at the phone for a moment. Provenza?

Provenza!

"Shoot!" She yanked the device from the outstretched hand and answered it. "Yes, Lieutenant."

"Chief," he sounded awake. "Bad news."

The blonde released a breath; meanwhile Sharon got into bed with her. Brenda spared her an irritated look and leaned back instead. "Out with it..."

"The ATF got one of our guys."

"Oh, lieutenant," Brenda's bottom lip wobbled. "You know how I don't like the ATF, who called them anyhow?"

"Chief Delk."

The blonde glanced at Raydor who had her back to her and was apparently going back to sleep. "Ooooh, that-"

"Chief. The reason I'm calling is that who we believe to be the other guy...a James Milner, is dead."

"Dead?"

"Dead. Got shot trying to rob a nightclub."

"A nightclub?" Brenda reminded herself of the time. "Well. How do we know it's him?"

"He had a Smith&Wesson on him from the gun and ammo shop, we open the trunk, more guns. And voila, serials are a match."

"Great. I'll be right there, lieutenant."

"Ah, Chief," Provenza interrupted.

"More bad news?"

"Well, the thing is, Chief, a cop shot the guy, so this is technically an officer involved shooting-"

"Oh, for heaven's sakes."

"-but the ATF is going to waltz into the crime scene in about 45 minutes. Now, we could just step aside and let them take over or we could ask a certain someone to roll out the red tape, whichever you think is the lesser evil..."

Brenda glanced at Sharon, sucking on her lower lip.

"Lieutenant," she said carefully. "I think we should go with option two."

Provenza snorted. "In progress, Chief. Raydor's not answering her phone, I don't have her landline and I'm not calling that Elliott fella, the last time he showed up instead of her, he got out the rule book and-"

"Lieutenant," Brenda interrupted loudly. "I'll take care of it."

"Won't be necessary, Chief. I'm just driving up her road. Might as well try her house-"

Brenda sat up in bed, eyes wide. "You what?" She flung the covers aside and briefly noted Sharon glaring at her. "You're where?"

"Driving up her street. Chief...is that your car?"

The blonde bit her lip, shaking. "Yes, Lieutenant. Just...hold on one minute." She covered the microphone and rounded the bed. She flung the covers aside and prodded the Captain with her finger. "Where's your phone?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Your phone!"

It dawned on Sharon then. "Shit." She swung her legs out and swept out the door, Brenda right behind her.

"I need your clothes!"

"My what?" Sharon laid on the floor, a hand searching under the bed. "Almost...got it!" She presented her phone. "Eight missed calls. Provenza." She turned over and sat. "What does he want?"

"Clothes, Captain, that's an order!" Brenda then remembered her cell phone. "LIeutenant. Just...give me one second." She hung up and ripped the door to Sharon's closet open.

"Oh, no! That's an Armani!"

The woman almost crashed into her back.

"What about the blouse?" Brenda pulled one sleeve of the cream colored, very soft feeling fabric up in the air.

"Chanel." Sharon almost swatted her hand away. "What about this?" She pulled a navy dress out. "That'd go nice with your white trench."

Brenda turned a bit, glowering at the woman. "But I don't have it."

The Captain swallowed. "Take my bolero jacket then...it's wool, so, you know, don't get anything on it and if you just...refrained from-"

"Captain." Brenda wanted to be mad at her but couldn't. "I have worn clothes before."

Sharon smirked. "Fine..." She let go of the woolen jacket, surrendering it.

The blonde slipped past her, clutching the clothes to her chest and went for the wooden commode, pulling the top drawer open.

"Oh, no, no, no!" Sharon was behind her again, closing the drawer. "I have to draw the line somewhere and this," she stood in front of the commode protectively, "is just a big no, no."

The blonde sighed impatiently. "I didn't bring any underwear!"

"You brought some the other day!"

"I forgot, now, at least let me have panties."

Sharon narrowed her eyes at her and looked her up and down, once, then she turned, opening the drawer and almost secretly went through it. Brenda smirked, amused, and tried to catch a glimpse of the contents.

"You may have these," the brunette announced and presented her with very nondescript, black panties.

"Thank you," Brenda said, "thank you so much." Giving the woman a faint smile, Brenda ripped the sash of the robe open, disposed of it quite unceremoniously and slipped into the black underwear. It fit.

"My bra?" She looked around the room while the Captain cleaned up after her. The bra was on a chair in the corner of the room with the rest of her clothes, folded. The blonde sucked on her lower lip but said nothing, she merely took in the scent of her clothes - sweat and sex, after all, the woman had had her on the bed in them.

Unwearable.

"Now, what does Lieutenant Provenza want?"

Brenda sighed as she picked up the dress and pulled it over her head. "Well. I need your help."

Sharon sat on the bed. "My help?"

"We need you to roll out the red tape. I'll explain in the car."

"Wait a minute..."

"No time," Brenda slipped into the jacket. "Lieutenant Provenza is waitin' outside."

The brunette's face went a bit pale. "He is outside my house?" Sharon threw her hands up in the hair. "Brenda, what were you thinking?"

"You weren't answerin' your phone," the blonde retorted. "And I smell. I'll be in the bathroom..." She swept to the door and turned with raised eyebrows. "Mind if I use your toothbrush?"

* * *

Brenda tied her hair back, enviously eying the Captain who had somehow managed to blow her's back into place.

"What are we going to tell him?"

The blonde hoisted her purse up and shook her head, waiting for the woman to put on her coat. "Nothin'." She shrugged.

"Nothing?"

"Nope. Nothin'." She felt Sharon's gaze study her curiously.

"Alright," the woman said finally as they came to a halt in front of the door. "You're supposed to be one of the best professional liars in all of the United States, I'm sure you know what you're doing."

Brenda lifted an eyebrow at that yet said nothing and followed Sharon out the door.

"Lieutenant," Provenza was leaning against his Crown Vic that he had conveniently parked next to Brenda's. "Get us up to speed, please."

He glared mildly at Sharon, just on principal.

"Captain Raydor is helpin' us out, so let's be nice for a change." Brenda smirked inwardly as Sharon's face contorted in disbelieve and surprise.

"Well, Chief," Provenza began conversationally. "Ah...Delk called the ATF and they picked up a Richard Dominguez after we," he pointed at himself angrily, "ran his prints. He obviously ratted-"

"Obviously?" Sharon interrupted which, Brenda could tell, Provenza didn't take kindly to.

"I theorize, based on my years of experience," he went a bit red in the face, "and common sense, that Mr. Dominguez, in exchange for a lighter sentence, gave up his partner or partners."

Brenda nodded. "Then how did James Milner get shot by a cop?"

"Apparently, and I'm merely theorizing here, Captain, their star witness lied. He either got his names mixed up or we're looking for a Mr. Eddy Peters."

The blonde crossed her arms. "I don't know about you, Cap'n, but that don't sound made up to me."

"So now we're looking at three perpetrators..."

Brenda gave her a disbelieving look. "We?"

Sharon merely lifted an eyebrow. "I will call Sergeant Elliott, he will roll out the red tape, as you requested and I will allow your team to properly search Mr. Milner's car, as well as his body while my team is investigating the scene of this officer involved shooting. However, I want to be present at the autopsy."

She held out her hand. "You've got yourself a deal, Captain."

"Great," Sharon shook the hand automatically. "See you there." She turned on her heel, phone going up to her ear, and unlocked her car.

Brenda watched her go then rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"You alright, Chief?"

She nodded. "Cheap Merlot always gives me a headache."

Provenza made a sound in the back of his throat. "Don't make a habit out of it, they're hard to get rid of," he tilted his head towards Raydor who was getting into her car.

"Very funny, Lieutenant." Brenda glanced at the woman one last time. "This Crawley guy...he's been showin' up more than she let on."

"I knew it."

"Well, we had a big, long chat about it last night," Brenda stretched the truth a bit. "She better be careful."

* * *

Sergeant Elliott rolled the last bit of the red tape out, wrapping it around a lamp post and tying it with a double knot.

Raydor stood inside the rather large scene, arms crossed, surveying the goings on with sharp eyes.

Brenda found herself on the other side of the tape, her team waiting rather impatiently right behind her.

"Detective Gabriel," Raydor said delicately, "I have to say, you did a good job at keeping all the witnesses at the scene."

Everyone looked at him as if he had just contracted syphilis.

"Thank you," he said slowly and shuddered.

"Captain," Brenda was already far, far ahead of them all, too preoccupied with her case to even notice the banter. "When may we interview those witnesses?"

"You do realize that I will have to go first, Chief?"

The blonde nodded. "I do. But, when will that be?" Patience really wasn't her strongest suit.

"How about," Sharon said with an odd inflection in her voice, "we interview them together?"

"Together?"

"Together. However," Sharon added quickly, "I will have to ask my questions first and you may ask yours afterwards. Is that agreeable?"

Brenda glanced at Provenza and almost rolled her eyes. "Fine." She pulled at the red tape and plastered a smile onto her face. "May we come in?"

Raydor gave her a slow nod. "You may proceed. But, Chief! You're on my turf," she said carefully, "and we will have to do things my way."

"I understand, Captain. Don't you worry, you'll barely know we're there."

"Uh oh, Chief," Flynn sidled up to her. "ATF approaching."

Brenda saw the cars pull up and looked back at Sharon who was coming out from behind the barrier. "Where's Commander Taylor when you need him..."

"I'll take care of it," Raydor announced and swept past them.

Well, then, Brenda entered the crime scene, her team following suit. "Buzz, you filmin'?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Let's have a look at the car, no one touch the body yet until FID is ready..." She turned around with a stern expression. "And remember, Captain Raydor is doin' us a favor by sharing the scene, so let's not step on her toes."

"You heard the Chief," Provenza said, "Don't antagonize her or she might turn us all into a bunch of toads."

* * *

Brenda knew that Raydor was less than satisfied with her as soon as she rounded the corner and caught the Captain pacing up and down the corridor, wrist poised in midair as she squinted at her watch.

"Just one second," the blonde said, listening to the recording of Fritz's mailbox for the second time. "Hi, it's me...again." She gave Raydor a placating smile as Gabriel joined them, holding up her purse that she had forgotten in her office.

"I was just wonderin' if you wanted me to pick you up from the airport? And Agent Morgan as well...of course." Brenda turned away, hoisting her purse up onto her shoulder. "Call me when you get this. I'll talk to you later...bye." She almost hung up then remembered what she was supposed to do - what Fritz did. "I love you. Bye!"

Hanging up, Brenda felt awkward.

Steeling herself, she faced Raydor who merely raised both eyebrows at her.

"We're late. I'm sorry but I forgot all about Joel and I felt terrible-"

"Chief?" Sharon interrupted, hands on her hips, the blue scrubs she was wearing looking rather unbecoming. "Can we just get started?"

"Of course, Captain."

Her phone rang.

Giving the woman her best apologetic look, Brenda glanced at the screen.

Fritz.

"I-I'm sorry, just one second." She answered it. "Hi, Fritzy."

"I just got your messages, I was in a meeting."

"Oh," Brenda glanced at Sharon and felt a blush creep over her features. "That's alright." She wandered around the corner, not that they couldn't hear her there but not having to look at the woman helped somewhat.

"Reese is going to pick us up from the airport, I know how busy you get," Fritz said jokingly. "I should be home at around six tonight."

The blonde smiled. "I'll get out of work on time, I promise, and get us somethin' nice to eat."

"I can cook..."

"No, no," the blonde replied modestly. "I'll pick something up, don't you worry."

"Alright," Fritz seemed pleased. "Sounds good."

"Perfect," Brenda glanced around the corner. "Listen, I have to go. David and Captain Raydor are waitin' for me and I'm already late..."

"Yeah, don't worry. I'll see you tonight."

Brenda smiled. "You will!"

"I love you."

"Love you too! Bye!" The blonde hesitated before she rounded the corner again, awkwardly smoothing down the dress that wasn't hers. "Sorry 'bout that," she said innocently. "Where were we?"

* * *

Brenda locked her car, balancing two bags containing Chinese take out.

She was only a bit late - half an hour was nothing in the Brenda Leigh Johnson universe, it was practically on time, and Fritz had to have expected it.

The blonde felt a smile tug at her lips as she walked up the driveway and to the backdoor; she had missed Fritz, she had missed their evenings together, watching TV, sharing a meal - even though she was always late - and seeing him at work.

Before she opened the door, Brenda stilled for a moment, feeling a darkness envelope her heart, guilt heavy in the pit of her stomach.

She clenched her jaw and swallowed heavily.

This had to stop.

It was as clear as day.

But just like with many a things, Brenda didn't know quite how.

That thing, with Raydor, she was in too deep. It was supposed to be an affair...

The blonde shook her head and entered, feeling the warmth of the house, their home, chase away the darkness.

"Hi, Fritzy!"

"Hey..." She heard from somewhere in the house. "I'm just unpacking my stuff," there was a smile in his voice. "I have to do some laundry...looks like you haven't done any lately."

Brenda deposited the brown paper bags on the table and dropped her purse on a chair. "I was just so busy..."

"I heard." He was in the bedroom. "The ATF's all over it."

"I have no idea why," Brenda commented from the doorway, watching him fold clean clothes away. "It's not like we're talkin' about a big firearms smuggling ring or somethin'."

"Yeah," Fritz said absentmindedly. "Maybe they just wanna make things clear with Delk." He smiled and crossed the room. "Hello, you." He took her in his arms and held her for much longer than he usually would, Brenda noted, but she hugged back, reveling in his presence.

"I'm sorry the house is such a mess. I really meant to do my clothes-"

"And the dishes."

"And the dishes," Brenda nodded, "But it was just so busy at work...and then that silly incident with Captain Raydor." She had to mention it, not to be cruel but to find out what he knew.

She also didn't want to seem like she was hiding something.

"What about Raydor?" He asked stiffly.

"Oh, well," Brenda stepped out of his embrace and made her way down the hall towards the kitchen, his footsteps right behind her. "Some officer she investigated has been sort of stalkin' her and then he showed up at her house, threatenin' her-"

"That doesn't sound good," Fritz said, feigning sympathy, yet sounding like he wasn't remotely interested either.

Brenda sighed inwardly, dismayed at the lack of change, at having yet another one of 'those' conversations. "Provenza took care of it mostly..." She trailed off and opened the bags instead. "I've got spring rolls."

Fritz smiled at that and investigated himself. "Happy Family?" He asked, surprised.

"Yes," Brenda said nonchalantly, getting two plates out.

"I thought you had enough of it?"

"Well," she sat and broke the chopsticks apart. "I missed it."

"Ah," he remained standing. "Can we talk?"

Brenda licked her bottom lip, trying to keep it from wobbling. "Can we eat? I have a feeling I'm gonna lose my appetite after whatever you have to say to me..."

Fritz sighed loudly, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown. "My sister wants to get together for New Year's but we've got your parents in town, so I said I was going to go see her by myself."

"Oh," Brenda piled food onto her plate. "How convenient."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The blonde looked up at him, tilting her head to the side. "If you wanna get away from me, just say so."

"That's not it." He finally sat. "I'm just not ready yet."

"I see." Brenda stared at her plate. "When will you be ready? 'Cause this is no way to be..."

Fritz shook his head, rubbing his face tiredly. "It's just a few days."

"And you think a few days with your sister will help you forgive me?" The blonde swallowed convulsively, almost throwing down the chopsticks.

"To me it just seems like you don't even want to be forgiven. I mean, you present me with, with this and expect me to just move on? Deal with it?"

"What else was I supposed to do?"

"Not kiss her?"

"Well, I did," Brenda pushed her chair back, feeling sick to her stomach. What had she done? "And I'm sorry," she rounded the table and stood in front of him for a moment. She looked into his eyes, paralyzed, then, suddenly, she dropped into his arms.

"I love you more than anything," she sobbed. "And I'm sorry I'm ruinin' everythin'!"

"Shhh, shhh..." Fritz rubbed her back. "You're not ruining everything."

"I am! I am!"

"No, listen," he pushed her back a little to look her in the eye. "You're not. I just need some time. And I know," he said before she could speak, "I know it took me a long time but I...I just never expected it. Part of me wishes it had been Pope...or some other guy."

"What do you mean, some other guy?" Brenda wiped at her tears. "You don't have to worry. It don't mean anything-"

"Whatever she's got, I can't compete with that," he interrupted. "I can't compete with a woman, Brenda, and you've never told me...why? I mean...why?"

The blonde sniveled, trying to regain her composure, and pulled a chair closer, sitting slowly. "What difference will that make?"

"I just need to know."

Brenda sucked her lower lip in and lowered her eyes. "I wanted it."

"You wanted it?"

"I did." The blonde looked up. "I was curious," she decided to say, hoping that would satisfy him. "I've never...I've never..."

"You've never kissed a woman before?"

Brenda nodded. "It was silly..."

"Silly?" Fritz didn't sound too happy with that.

"I," she sighed, "She wanted it and I was selfish."

He bit his lip and reached for his hands, squeezing them. "Did you like it? And tell me the truth, okay?"

Brenda tried to think but knew she couldn't lie, that he would know if she did. "Yes."

He had known that but hadn't expected her to admit it. Fritz stared at her for what seemed like the longest time then gave her a short nod. "Okay."

Okay? Brenda swallowed.

"What do you wanna do about it?"

"...do about what?" She asked, confused.

"About you, and women."

The blonde's eyes widened and her jaw went slack. "There is no me and women."

"I just don't want this to be a continuous issue."

"It won't be."

Fritz studied her face intently. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"Okay...okay. Great."

Brenda licked her lip. "Just like that?"

"Just like that."

The blonde lifted an eyebrow.

"Let's eat..." Fritz gave her a smile. "Happy Family."


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter Forty-Three:**

No Time like the Present

Sharon balanced on her dining chair. She grunted indignantly as her fingers reached for the storage box that she had difficulty getting to every year.

With one final huff she pulled the box down and stepped off her chair, pleased.

It was Christmas and Sharon was looking forward to her family's annual trip to Park City. During the year she didn't particularly miss the snow or the cold but every Christmas she felt that yearning within herself, and the anticipation of the upcoming trip left her buzzing and, for her standards, rather bubbly.

Seeing her children for five uninterrupted days and having them pretty much to herself was perhaps the biggest joy.

Sharon opened the box and retrieved her jacket. She had bought it a month ago for the trip, her other having gone out of fashion which had been enough of an excuse to buy the new one even though that voice in the back of her mind had protested slightly at spending this much for a last season's Peuterey.

The brunette folded the jacket and put it over the cast iron frame of her bed.

Sharon smiled a little as she closed her ready packed suitcase that laid on the covers.

Her cell phone decided to ring at that moment and disturb her pre-Christmas cheer. Sharon hoped it wasn't Pope or her mother, again, to ask her to bring her something or other that she had forgotten.

Instead, Sharon realized with a sinking feeling, it was Chief Johnson.

She sat on the edge of the bed, slumping over a bit and took a deep breath, steeling herself.

"Raydor."

"Cap'n," Brenda said, "This is Chief Johnson."

Really, Sharon rolled her eyes and pulled her glasses from her nose. "Chief, what can I do for you today?" She tried to be polite and patient, the latter requiring quite the amount of self-control whenever Little Miss Peachy was involved.

"We've got a situation."

Sharon swallowed, her eyes closing in near-despair. "A situation?" She asked delicately, trying to remain on a respectful level with the woman because it gave her a certain sense of civilizedness that Sharon found to be lacking in the world, especially in her line of work.

"Well," Chief Johnson went on too nonchalantly. "It looks like we've got ourselves an Officer involved...um...death."

Sharon nodded slowly. "A death, Chief?"

"Yes."

"Hmm," she hummed and glanced at the clock. "I suppose I should have a look." She got up and pulled her suitcase from the bed, extending the handle.

"Absolutely, Captain."

Sharon took her down jacket and draped it over her arm. "I'll meet you at the scene then."

"Oh that won't be necessary," Brenda said quickly.

"And why is that?"

"It's quite clear what happened...we've got video and b'sides, the scene has already been released."

The brunette sighed and made her way to the front door. "Released? Chief, if I am to conduct a thorough investigation, I will need a scene."

"Well...that's too bad. Um, look, Sharon...this won't take long, it's open and shut but I still have to sign off on three reports for Chief Pope, god knows why he's still workin' and I have to pick my Momma and Daddy up from the airport." Brenda sighed loudly. "I'd love to take this off your hands, even the coroner says the autopsy should be pretty conclusive but I've just don't got the time."

Sharon rolled her eyes. "And I don't have time for your..._endless_ tales of woe-"

"Tales of woe?!" Brenda screeched, scandalized. "This is a serious police matter."

"Of course."

"A man got run over by the LAPD, if that's not serious then what is, Captain?"

Sharon locked her front door, pulling her suitcase along. "Run over?"

"Yes," Brenda confirmed. "Splattered across the windshield."

"Oh for god's sake..." Sharon mumbled under her breath and proceeded to her Hyundai in the driveway. "I'll be right there. And please, Chief, don't...do anything else till I get there, okay?"

"Okay...I was just tryin' to be helpful."

"Well," Sharon opened the trunk of her car. "Don't."

"Fine," the blonde sounded contrite. "I'll see you in the morgue."

"Perfect," she said, more to herself, and hung up.

Run over?

She sighed.

_Wonderful._

* * *

Sometimes Sharon felt like a pushover.

Not that she could leave, mind you, Brenda was still her superior officer and her orders had to be followed...even when they were completely ludicrous, as far as Sharon was concerned.

Truth be told, she had a life and she hardly got to see her children as it was.

Her son called her once a week, relaying much about his work life, whereas his private life, and it was strange to think of your children having such, remained in the dark.

Sharon wasn't sure whether he was merely being secretive about one thing or another that he felt too embarrassed to talk to his mother about or perhaps he just couldn't talk to her, per se. Perhaps he talked to other people, perhaps he was a very talkative person usually, perhaps she had missed one Christmas too many.

Johnson could have taken care of it herself, Sharon concluded, staring down at the blood stained linen sheet wrapped around their dead body.

And so far, it was 'their' body because somebody had yet to claim it.

And usually that was Johnson.

Sharon released a slow, deliberate breath - she had to get rid of this case.

Admittedly, it wasn't necessarily the honorable thing to do, and to think of him as a mere criminal, having attacked somebody with a knife, was morally reprehensible because most of the time Sharon did find herself on that side of the fence with her investigations whereas Johnson was on the other...far, far at that.

She listened to Brenda relay her tales of woe yet again, her parents were coming to town, it was Christmas, her squad had plans, blah, blah, blah. Sharon had heard it before. Brenda was, if anything, very predictable in her efforts to manipulate people.

Sometimes Sharon wondered how her husband dealt with that.

The blonde probably jerked him around as well.

She blinked.

It was reprehensible to think of it that way but that sordid thing they were doing had given her a lot of insight. She had always known how to push the woman's buttons, that was fairly easy but funnily enough, Brenda knew how to push hers just as well; at least Sharon now knew what to say in order to get her way.

Sometimes Brenda was completely oblivious to how transparent she actually was.

"Chief, I sympathize but I'm leaving tomorrow to be with my mom and dad in Park City. My kids are already there and my dad is not feeling well and this may very well be his last Christmas."

Brenda stared at her for a moment, Sharon could practically see the wheels turning which she knew meant that she had very likely won this round - Brenda just was weak when it came to fathers.

"I'm sure we can wrap this up by tonight."

What? No!

"Detective Sanchez, get Dr. Morales for me, wherever he might be and you," she meant Sharon, "get the dash cam from the patrol car and interview the officers-"

"And I get the guy who was attacked in an interview room right away."

Gabriel finished her sentence and was on his way.

"And we'll take a statement together."

The instance Brenda smirked at her, Sharon knew that she was mocking her.

"Together?" She asked silkily, knowing that the blonde particularly enjoyed that tone of voice.

"Yes," Brenda turned on her heel, expecting her to follow. "You even get to pick when to ask your questions."

"Is that supposed to be my Christmas present?" Sharon put her hands in the pockets of her blazer, clicking and clacking after the woman.

"No, Cap'n." Brenda said over her shoulder. "I got somethin' else for you..."

* * *

As the interview unraveled some of the mysteries of the case, Sharon began to get the sinking feeling that she would not make her flight.

Everyone knew how Johnson was - that she worked tirelessly and perhaps somewhat obsessively to solve murders, and that she wouldn't let anybody stand in the way of her investigations.

Not even Sharon's sick 'Daddy' or Gabriel's trip to Italy.

Her 'Gabriel', Sergeant Elliott, was at home. His first Christmas with his new baby and even though Sharon felt tempted to call him in and have him take over, she didn't have the heart to take that away from him.

After all, she knew how it was to look back on several missed festivities over the years.

And she really couldn't not show up this time.

Sharon felt like she owed it to herself as well. She had had a hard time lately and the fact that she had to stand next to the woman she was carrying on with didn't help matters. She knew why Brenda needed this, Sharon wasn't an idiot, but she couldn't figure out why she herself couldn't just end it.

It was clear that she had to do something about it, sooner rather than later really, or else she might not be able to look her parents in the eye.

And then her mother would prod and pester her until she gave it up and all hell would break loose.

No. Her lips would be sealed.

First she had to make sure that she even got there. The airline wanted $700 to change her ticket, which she would pay, but that was beside the point. She knew she had to take care of her duties but at that moment she wanted to throttle the woman following a good whack over the head with that hideous handbag.

Sometimes Brenda annoyed her more than other times and it was those occasions she wished she could cuff her to the bed again.

Sharon smirked to herself then smirked at Detective Sanchez...and his hat.

Everyone was ready for Christmas, everyone except Johnson.

She was always ready for a murder.

What a miserable existence that must be.

Sharon wanted to roll her eyes.

What in the world attracted her to the woman that even when she was being completely insufferable, Sharon couldn't help but want her.

The brunette was seldom selfish, she made a point not to be, but Brenda was just something she wanted to have.

She took it. For once.

And it felt good.

Satisfying.

As Brenda sped down the hall to greet her parents in the 'Murder Room', as they called it, Sharon contemplated to just remain in the exact same spot.

Meeting her parents?

Out of the question but the way Sanchez eyed her up, as if he knew something, which he very likely didn't, made Sharon feel just a tad uneasy.

She hurried after the woman then, Sanchez right behind her, and tried to come up with an impromptu game plan, improvise a nonchalant and entirely unsuspicious first meeting.

Her parents had no idea and Sharon tried not to let the guilty conscience show as her eyes zeroed in on Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.

She looked terribly sweet, Sharon thought, and it was apparent where Brenda got her sense of fashion from.

He looked imposing, like somebody you didn't want to antagonize.

Sharon swallowed. She hadn't even looked at Fritz yet. She couldn't.

Some days were just better than others, some days she couldn't even remember having slept with this man's wife, some days it completely slipped her mind but others Sharon barely managed to look at him.

"I just wish we all could watch Lieutenant Provenza put on his Santa suit..."

The brunette took a breath upon which she realized that she had stopped breathing altogether.

"...and take all these toys to the needy children."

So, that were the parents.

Brenda didn't seem fazed at all.

Sharon wanted to disappear.

However, Brenda's nonchalance calmed Sharon somewhat, oddly enough. She couldn't help but admire her ability to become Daddy's little girl, change personality, in the blink of an eye.

Was she genuine?

Sharon couldn't tell.

The brunette felt a hot flush coming on, it was panic, she realized and even though she had wanted to remain silent and to simply wait it out, desperation made her do the craziest things.

Like entering a room with the parents and the husband of the woman she was carrying on with.

She was sleeping with Brenda Leigh Johnson. Not just the Chief, no, with an actual person who deceived her entire family and was even despicably good at it.

"Um, Chief Johnson..." Sharon said quietly, hoping to interrupt the cheerfulness and remind Brenda where they were at and what they were supposed to be doing.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Sharon almost breathed a sigh of relief, but then:

"Momma, Daddy, this is my Captain Raydor."

Absolute silence. Sharon blinked.

"I-I mean, my friend, Captain Sharon..."

It just went from bad to worse. The brunette felt the blood drain from her face, the idea of whacking the blonde with her giant purse getting more and more appealing.

"I mean, my friend, Sharon Raydor."

Her friend...Sharon Raydor. She glanced at Fritz.

Oh, yes, Sharon thought, swallowing convulsively. He was thinking it. And he didn't even spare her a glance.

Sharon was pretty sure that the man hated her guts.

"We've been waitin' to meet one of Brenda's friends since she graduated high school."

Any other day Sharon would be greatly amused at Brenda's expense but not today. She glanced at Fritz again.

Her parents were absolutely lovely.

"Well, here I am."

Sharon surprised even herself. She wasn't a good liar, at least she liked to think so; being a good liar wasn't something people prided themselves with.

"Wait a minute Clay; did you say Captain, as in you work here?"

The brunette nodded. "Yes, that's right, Mrs. Johnson." Manners. If Catholic school had taught her anything, it was manners. Sharon was glad for it, being able to fall back on proper mannerly conduct, ladylikeness, pleasantries even, was a great comfort.

"Ah, I see, her friend works here." Mrs. Johnson said evenly.

A recurring theme then, Sharon noted.

"Please, call me Willie Rae. Brenda's friends are my friends too."

Sharon grasped the woman's hand, plastering a smile onto her face. "Okay, Willie Rae." It felt like an initiation yet she couldn't help but think about her children, if somebody did that to them.

Not that Brenda wasn't just as responsible but as a parent you were meant to overlook these things, or weren't you?

Clay would skin her alive, Sharon was sure. And Fritz? He still hadn't looked at her. Perhaps he felt superior because he had what he thought she wanted. It angered her slightly; she didn't want anything though, he could have her, which sounded somewhat archaic but it wasn't like Sharon was trying to ruin anything on purpose.

She just really wished they weren't doing this.

It was detrimental to her mental health, one way or another which was the dilemma.

Sharon wanted to throw up as they finally made it out into the hallway. She felt like a dying swan which, perhaps verged on overly dramatic but she had been accused more than once to have a flair for it anyway.

She might as well wallow in it.

Brenda was quiet as they strode down the corridor; perhaps she realized she had messed up.

My Captain Raydor?

Freudian slip? Sharon wasn't interested.

"Look-"

"Ah!" The brunette held up her hand; she wasn't interested in that either. "Whatever it is, I do not want to hear it."

She heard the blonde scoff loudly. "You won't let me apologize? What kinda person are you?"

Sharon wanted to retort, despite herself - she didn't talk back and she didn't get into ridiculous arguments...except, of course, when Brenda was around because petty little fights were part of their daily routine.

She was sick of it.

"Half the time, you don't even mean it."

"I do so!" Brenda was about to grab her when an officer rounded the corner.

"Chief," he said with a deep voice then glanced at her. Sharon made eye contact. He nodded at her, "Captain." He couldn't look away fast enough.

Sharon groaned internally; the story of her life.

"Look...Sharon."

The brunette rummaged for her keycard - she had had it five minutes ago.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that."

Sharon nodded, accepting the apology somewhat but in the pit of her stomach she felt that it wasn't enough.

Sorry I got you into this mess.

Sorry you're feeling so horrible because of me.

Sorry you liken yourself to a dying swan and blame everybody else but yourself.

The brunette swiped her keycard.

"I'm sorry," she said as Brenda walked through the door. "I just really need to get away for Christmas."

The blonde nodded. "To see your kids."

Sharon sighed. "To see my kids."

"Your son's with the FBI, isn't he?" Brenda started somewhat awkwardly. "What's the other one doin'?"

The brunette smirked at the put on conversational tone; Brenda was just so obvious sometimes and Sharon had to admit, albeit begrudgingly, that it was a rather endearing quality.

"Now, now, Brenda," She patted the woman's shoulder. "I really don't appreciate nosiness. Especially from my friends."

* * *

Sharon contemplated dialing her mother's number so she could break the news, that she might not be leaving tomorrow morning, but rather tomorrow night, to the rest of the family but knowing that she would put on that pitiful voice and say somewhat condescendingly, "As long as you make it here for Christmas," put Sharon off that idea.

She stared at the phone, annoyed with herself and with Pope for dumping this mess on her doorstep, including Brenda and her attitude, but realized she at least had to let her family know.

Sharon decided to text her father. She couldn't be sure whether or not he really read texts but writing her son was out of the question - 'hey, I'm sorry, it really was out of my hands, there was a terrible accident, I'll be on time next time, promise, really, I promise.'

That wouldn't fly anymore with her children.

Instead she said, 'Last minute orders. Will try to catch my flight. Will let you know of any changes. See you soon.'

The door to Pope's office opened as she hit send and for a moment she could merely stare open-mouthed at Brenda.

The blonde stared back at her, a strange expression on her face. "We'll get this sorted out." She breezed past Sharon.

The brunette stuffed her phone into her pocket and rolled her eyes - promises, promises.

"We better," Sharon commented sourly, "Because my daughter has very nearly forgiven me for being late to her graduation." She had barely finished the sentence when Brenda pulled her aside. She walked right into the woman's back as the door the blonde had intended to catapult them both into wouldn't budge.

"Ooooh, I hate this buildin'!" Brenda fiddled with her keycard.

Sharon sighed and stepped back, crossing her arms. She tried to look defiant and perfectly confident but in truth she was merely steeling herself for whatever was about to come. "What are you doing?" She asked lamely, not protesting as Brenda pulled her into the room.

"Get in here!"

Sharon straightened her jacket and pushed her glasses up her nose. She wanted to be angered by the other woman's audacity, she wanted to tell her how inappropriate she was and how her conduct was unacceptable but the blonde frequently reduced her to a speechless, insecure, stuttering little girl.

"How long are you gonna be in Park City?"

The brunette blinked. "I want to say five days but as you can see, I'm here and not yet...there."

"Got any plans for New Year's?"

"Yes," Sharon said carefully, feeling like this was verging on an interrogation. "Yes, in fact, I do."

Brenda crossed her arms.

"I thought you were spending Christmas and New Year's with your parents?"

"I was," the blonde shook her head. "I am. I was just wonderin'..."

"Ah," Sharon uncrossed her arms, finally regaining some semblance of composure. The ball was in her court, she realized and she could tell by Brenda's expression that the blonde was expecting a certain answer.

Sometimes, Sharon thought, she really wished she could surprise the blonde and say, thanks but no thanks, but Brenda gave her a tingle, a prickly sensation that seemed to rule her mind. "You were wondering what?"

There, she had done it yet again; Sharon swallowed heavily and crossed her arms once more, realizing in despair that, yet again, she was utterly helpless. It was despicable and vile how the woman could just make her do these things, she was her kryptonite.

"I was just wonderin' if..." Brenda came closer, biting her lip and reaching out. "If you'd like to maybe get together...sometime."

Sharon glanced down as the woman's fingertip drew a circle onto the back of her hand.

Yes, she wanted to say yes but tried not to. The answer should be no, I do not, not ever again. What we're doing is utterly wrong, I can't look at myself anymore. I feel awful. I wish you'd leave me alone.

"I know it's maybe a bit inconvenient but Fritz's not gonna be there," the blonde babbled along, Sharon had been quiet for a moment too long, "He's visitin' his sister. By himself."

The brunette nodded slowly.

"She coulda come see us...even though she's just terrible, and gets my Mama upset." Brenda shrugged. "But he wants to get away for a few days," she added somewhat nonchalantly. "Again."

Sharon studied the woman's features for a moment, she wasn't stupid or naive, and realized what was happening. It all sounded strangely familiar.

"Oh."

"Yes...oh." Brenda turned around and leaned against a table, her typically sullen expression on her face. "He needs more time."

She didn't really want to hear it.

The fact that it was partially her fault didn't help her heavy conscience.

"Maybe we shouldn't see each other for a while," Sharon said slowly, feeling strangely proud of herself. "Maybe that would be for the best, don't you think?"

Brenda stood back up. "Of course not!"

"No?" The woman frequently confused her.

"No! What gave you that ridiculous idea?"

Ridiculous? Sharon blinked and shook her head.

"Let's just meet on the 1st. I can come over to your place, my parents will be asleep, they won't even know I'm gone and-"

"Hold on." She took a deep breath. "We're not going to my place anymore."

"Where else would we go? You can't get a hotel room in all of L.A. at that time of year," Brenda went on frantically. "And it's not like we can go to mine and-"

"Stop," Sharon interrupted. "Stop." She rubbed her forehead and took a deep breath, gathering herself. "This is getting out of hand."

The blonde didn't look pleased but what could she do?

Sharon stared at her for a moment, waiting for the blonde to comprehend then rolled her eyes. "We cannot meet when your parents are in town."

"Why?"

"Don't you think we should just let things cool-"

"No!"

"What about-"

"No."

Sharon turned around and took a few steps, gathering her resolve. She was making excuses and she really wished she had the balls to say what she really meant but...

But there was always a 'but'.

Facing the developing nightmare in the room, Sharon decided to do what she knew was never permitted - there was an unspoken rule between them, so far it had been honored, mostly, but Brenda was persistent.

The reason was obvious and even though it pained her to do so, Sharon laid it out for the blonde.

"Don't you think it would be better if we didn't see each for a while," she wanted to say 'never ever again' but couldn't. "This was never meant to go on for this long but first and foremost it was never meant to impact on your marriage."

"But it isn't! If I hadn't told him about the kiss, we wouldn't even be havin' this conversation."

"Clearly." Sharon had to roll her eyes again - if she didn't know any better, she would have to think that the woman was just plain thick.

"Look...Sharon."

The brunette raised her eyebrows, unimpressed - she knew where this was going - and folded her arms calmly, tilting her head just to let Brenda know that her little routine wasn't really working.

She had heard that tone before and even though it dripped along her spine like honey, she knew not to show it. Brenda was an expert at exploiting other people's weaknesses, she exposed them and took advantage, she was a user.

There was the occasional glimmer of selflessness but those moments were far and few in between so Sharon, who usually tried to see the good in people, in Brenda, wouldn't bother to hope that there was more.

That she would change.

Because the heart of the matter was this: Brenda was not her problem.

She had a husband.

"Did I abandon you when you were havin' a hard time?"

Sharon narrowed her eyes. "Not the same thing."

"And how is that?"

Yes, indeed, how was that?

Sharon waited for her brain to come up with an answer.

"Thought so," Brenda said in a self-satisfied tone. "B'sides..." She sing-songed and swayed closer, "I still got your gift."

Sharon's shoulders slumped as the woman stopped in front of her and gently pulled on her arms, unfolding them.

"Don't you wanna unwrap it?"

The brunette rolled her eyes yet couldn't help but smirk at the sight of Brenda's cheeky grin.

"Sharon..." The blonde stepped even closer, their bodies touching faintly. "I'm not done with you yet."

Brenda's hand trailed over her hip and settled onto her behind.

She swallowed. "Chief..." She couldn't remember what she had wanted to say.

"It's Brenda." Their breaths mingled. "And I know you don't really mean what you said."

Their lips touched.

The blonde sucked gently on her bottom one.

Never had she been kissed like that; sweet as honey, sticky warmth and a gentle harshness that made her want to paw and claw at the woman.

Sad, truly, Sharon thought, throwing caution to the wind, and opened her mouth. Brenda always managed to worm her way back in, it was just one of her talents...at least that was what Sharon preferred to call it.

Before she knew it she was perched on the edge of the table.

"Nnnh," she tried to say and fisted the blonde's blazer. Her lips were so pliant and her body so warm and soft and firm, all in one. Full breasts.

She wanted to touch it - it being that strange sensation of womanliness - but it didn't seem like a physical thing, Sharon had come to realize, it was something about Brenda, something she couldn't grasp, and she had tried, but never could she get a hold of it.

She just always wanted to touch everything.

The thought of which seemed somewhat inappropriate for a woman her age, even though Brenda would disagree, but it wasn't always about Brenda, was it?

Sharon groaned.

Then her phone vibrated in her pocket.

"Wait..." She tore her lips away and squirmed, freeing herself. "I've got to, I mean, uh, 911 calls." She nodded with finality.

Brenda just looked at her with a blank expression, fixing her lipstick. "Right," she finally said and smirked, biting her lip. "So we'll get together then? After Christmas?"

She sounded hopeful, Sharon thought, and that didn't help.

The brunette shook her head, her eyes momentarily focused on the ceiling before she closed them and said, "...okay."

_Pushover. _

"Great!"

Argh! She would never rid herself of the woman! She would be forever stuck with this, with her, with the guilt and, eventually, somebody would find out and then her life would go down the drain, she-

"And don't you worry," Brenda interrupted her pity party. "We'll get this sorted out in no time. I'll get Lieutenant Tao to help you."

"Thank you," Sharon responded evenly, not feeling it in the slightest.

"Right," the blonde seemed too happy to care. "You've got...lipstick..." Brenda wiped at it with the pad of her thumb, her own lips forming a pout.

Sharon watched with interest as the emotions flitted across the woman's face, a rare treat that she treasured.

"There," Brenda said slowly, her eyes darting upwards, her gaze smoldering. "All better..."

* * *

It wasn't just about sex.

In fact, it was very little about sex, although, it was quite good, Sharon had to admit.

It had become apparent, or rather crystal clear, that she preferred the soft plains and curves of a woman's body yet Sharon couldn't help but think that there was more to being a lesbian - god, she hated that word - than mere sex with women.

Wasn't there supposed to be a 'lifestyle'?

Sharon nearly grimaced - that sounded horrible and, ironically, quite homophobic.

She wasn't though, not at all, she hated nobody.

Technically speaking, she feared nobody.

Sharon had never given it much thought before: Homophobia. No. Not really.

But then it occurred to her, as if somebody had slapped her in the face and doused her with cold water, that she was indeed afraid. Of her own sexuality.

Perhaps getting married to her buddy, her good friend that she thought she quite loved, hadn't been the best of ideas.

She had always looked at it as something her parents had wanted. He had come from a good Catholic family, he had the potential to become a great man, a great husband and father and that was what she had gone with.

But maybe it wasn't so much her parents she had tried to please.

Sharon felt her palms go sweaty with the realization.

No, it wasn't about sex; it was about having what she had always wanted, and the fact that she thought of it as wrong, in more ways than one, made it all the more necessary.

She contemplated Brenda's advice - take a breath, have more wine, eat a big, giant cake and get over it.

She had to accept the things she couldn't change, and her sexuality was one of them.

Was it that simple?

Could she let go of a lifetime of denial?

"Captain?"

The voice startled her, interrupting the quiet in the media room. "Yes, Buzz?"

"I'm going to order pizza and I was wondering if you wanted one as well. That is, if you don't tell anyone we've been eating it in here."

Sharon smiled at him. "That's very nice of you to offer." She rubbed her tummy a little, realizing she was quite hungry. "I think," she wanted a salad. "I'll have a big, giant one. With everything."

"Everything?"

"Yep," Sharon nodded, shocked she had just done that. "My treat."

"Oh," Buzz said slowly, just as shocked but he knew not to protest. "Okay then. One with everything..."

The brunette gave him a smile and stared at him while he ordered. Buzz, she didn't even know his name, seemed like a very well mannered and well spoken young man and, admittedly, she had a bit of a soft spot for those.

Her son came to mind. She wondered what they were all doing at that very moment. Perhaps having dinner at the restaurant they always went to. Her father would order a big lump of barely cooked meat and her mother would pick on her filet mignon for half an hour.

The Pope was effectively ruining her Christmas.

She couldn't really blame the boy - he was just a boy - but Pope? She wanted to rip him a new one.

"Don't worry," Buzz said suddenly, having hung up the phone. "Chief Johnson will come up with something. She always does."

Sharon gave him a weak smile, wanting to pat his knee but refrained from doing so. "You hold her in very high esteem..."

"We all do." He picked up his earphones and put them around his neck. "She is very good at what she does."

"I've come to realize that." Sharon picked at the hem of her shirt. "So," she said, changing the subject. "You cook?" Buzz gave her a surprised look. "I overheard you saying you were defrosting two turkeys..."

"Oh, yes, well, I'm helping my mom prepare Christmas dinner this year. My sister is out of town." He shrugged a little. "Plus, she never lets her take all the credit, my mom kinda likes the compliments."

Sharon smiled again. "Sounds nice," she replied quietly, wanting to say something else but conscious of the fact that Buzz was neither her friend nor her colleague, really - she hardly knew him.

When the pizzas arrived, Sharon found herself surprised at their size. They ate with their fingers, no knife, no fork, and she tried to remember when the last time was she ate anything without silverware that wasn't a bread roll. Buzz had his headphones on and was piecing together the tapes, his gaze very focused on his work, and beside his clicking and typing the room was silent.

Sharon chewed on a piece of crust absentmindedly, having had enough of the pizza already, and drifted off once more. She wondered briefly whether to go home or not but there she would sit with a bottle of wine and her misery and sulk about her almost missed Christmas.

For somebody who hardly ever drank, Sharon found herself drinking a lot lately.

That had to end.

Wine had tons of calories.

Leaning back in her chair and stretching her legs a little, Sharon contemplated her next move. Coming to terms with things was easier said than done. She wondered how her parents would react because she would have to tell them eventually, that much was clear.

No more hiding, no more deceit and lies. No more.

"Back in a minute," she said and stood, suddenly feeling rather antsy. She breezed out of the room and strode down the hallway towards the toilets.

Her life had become a nightmare.

Sharon came to a halt in front of the sinks, holding on to one as she stared at herself in the mirrors. She was trapped in this endless pas de deux, dancing back and forth with a married woman. No ending, no coda, no final goodbye.

She wondered what their last dance would be, where this would go? Sharon felt as if it was out of her hands, beyond her control, the great unknown.

It shouldn't be like this. She shouldn't be like this.

Defenseless, succumbing to her desires, blindly reaching for every little morsel of attention and affection Brenda merely tossed her way, seemingly indulging her, uncaring of her feelings and her own 'tales of woe'.

Her life threatened to disintegrate, to shatter, and still Sharon wanted to engage in sex, mindless, incautious, desire-filled, all-consuming sex, the kind she had never had before, and throw herself at the woman with a desperation never experienced prior to one Chief Johnson.

The despicable truth was that, as long as she persisted in her avoidance of the facts, she wouldn't be able to drag herself away from the woman. Brenda made her feel what nobody else had ever made her feel - regrettable, but fact.

What was it about her?

The answer was there, she could feel it.

Sharon wanted to cry in frustration.

"Are you alright?"

The brunette jumped and turned, holding onto the sink for dear life.

There she stood, her nemesis, Brenda.

"I'm sorry," the blonde said, dimples forming in her cheeks, "I didn't mean to startle you."

Sharon shook her head a little. "That's okay," she said.

"I thought you'd gone home..?"

"I was just about to," she lied, not wanting to seem sad or to be pitied. "Are you leaving?"

"Yes," Brenda washed her hands right beside her, glancing up at her from beneath her eyelashes. "My mama's puttin' on a big dinner...she probably cooked for a whole army."

Sharon nodded slowly, releasing the sink and crossing her arms. "It's hard to go back to cooking for only yourself once you've had to cook for four."

"Six," Brenda dried her hands on a paper towel. "I've got three brothers..."

Brothers then. Sharon bit her lip, an uncharacteristic gesture on her part, and sighed.

"What are you doin' for Christmas? Usually, I mean..."

"Well," she tilted her head, "We don't really cook. But my Dad makes pancakes in the morning."

"And?" Brenda prodded.

"We open our gifts..." Sharon smiled to herself. "I got my parents a wine tasting weekend away, in Napa."

"I got my Daddy wrenches," the blonde commented dryly.

The brunette spared her a smile. "I'm sure he'll appreciate them."

Brenda said nothing for a moment, leaning against the sink with her hip and stared at her, studied her. Sharon hated the scrutiny, Brenda always made her feel as if the blonde had all her secrets and thoughts figured out, as if she knew everything, which of course was ridiculous but Sharon couldn't help it.

She shifted from one foot to the other.

"You know," Brenda said suddenly, slinking closer. "Sometimes I regret tellin' him...about the kiss."

Sharon nodded slowly, wondering where this was going.

"If I hadn't, I'd invite you over for dinner tonight." The blonde shrugged self-consciously. "Whether you'd wanna come or not, I don't know but-" She cut herself off.

"But?" Sharon asked with a raised eyebrow.

"But...sometimes I wish we hadn't started all this."

The brunette met the blonde's fearful gaze and smiled. "Me too, honey."

"We coulda been friends."

Sharon exhaled slowly, toying with the idea of a friendship then tilted her head. "Woulda, coulda, shoulda?"

"That sounds just wrong," Brenda slapped her arm a bit, "but yes, somethin' like that."

"Well, uh, I should..." Sharon pointed at the general direction of the door.

The blonde just nodded, smiling, and came closer, her lips pursed, ready for a kiss that, in Sharon's opinion, was completely uncalled for but before their lips connected, Brenda drew back, eyes flashing curiously.

"Is that pizza on your breath?"

Sharon blinked, her heart less achy after their conversation, and decided not to be a bitch this time. "I had a big, giant one of something...could've been a pizza."

"Big, giant..." Brenda mumbled, remembering the advice she herself had given. "I like the sound of that..."

Sharon said nothing, she merely stared back, no words necessary.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow then."

The brunette nodded once, unable to speak as the woman came closer once more and kissed her, gently, gently, on her cheek.

"Night, Sharon."

* * *

"We had this gorgeous hotel right on the beach," he said. "And there was barely anybody there, off season and all..."

Sharon nodded.

"I wish we could've gone there for Christmas. Who needs Palm Springs anyway?"

The brunette blinked, absorbing what Jonathan had just said, but the first half of the conversation seemed to be elusively absent.

Did he say Maui?

"Sharon?"

They were on a first name basis, agreed upon during Willie Rae's beautiful Christmas dinner.

"Yes?"

"Maybe you should call your kids? Since you're not really with it anyway." He nipped on his faux-champagne. "I can't believe she made us all late for Christmas...again."

Sharon smirked and glanced at Brenda who was conversing with her husband in a corner.

"Now you know what that feels like as well. It's like an initiation into the Miss Atlanta all work, no play club." He shrugged. "Not that I'm complaining. She gave me some of my best cases...I might apply for Chief Medical Examiner next year."

"That's great."

Jonathan wrinkled his nose. "You don't really like her, do you?"

"I'm gay."

Sharon held her breath for a moment, thankful for the table she was leaning against. Jonathan just stared at her and she was pretty sure that her facial expression didn't match any emotion known to mankind; actually, what she felt at that moment was indeed indescribable.

Perhaps Brenda's laconic and succinct reaction had spoiled her a bit - of course she had to say nice things, with them being in the same bed and all, barely clothed at that - and Sharon had hoped for a similar one from Dr. Morales, with him being gay and all himself.

Instead he just looked at her, surprised perhaps but confused.

Sharon grimaced - she should stop blabbing at the most inopportune moments.

"Ha," Jonathan finally said, putting a smile on his face, "Me too." He waved her off and gulped his drink.

Sharon heard him swallow, her gaze on Brenda, cursing her very existence.

"Welcome to the club. I didn't peg you for one of us but hey, the more the merrier, right?"

The brunette nodded and relaxed a bit, still staring contemplatively. She basked in the brief moment of relief, of happiness, of carefreeness, before she looked back at her companion and smiled.

"Not as merry as I would like." She glanced at her clock. "Thirteen hours and twenty-two minutes until I get to see my family."

"Tell me about it."

"Are you still going to drive to Palm Springs?"

He looked torn then shrugged. "I guess I should go, face the parents..."

"You should," Sharon patted his shoulder. "You're a doctor, no parent can say no to that."

"Right. I'm a doctor for dead people and have extra parts, which makes me doubly weird." He shook his head. "My boyfriend's been out for all of a year which makes it even harder."

The brunette sighed gently and thought of her own coming-out, or lack thereof. Telling Brenda was a bit of a no brainer, telling Jonathan, well, it was progress, wasn't it?

Honestly, Sharon thought, she wasn't even entirely sure whether she wanted people to know. Not because she was ashamed - which she perhaps still was, a little - but because of the simple fact that she didn't like people in her business.

She would have to figure that out.

"You know, if you ever wanted to go out with us..."

The question hung in the air for a moment; Sharon smirked and lifted an eyebrow. "I don't go out to clubs, I go to museums." She glanced at him over the rim of her glasses. "I won't be any fun. _And_ I could be your mother."

"Not quite," he said with a boyish grin, "Good genes." He bumped his shoulder into hers. "We do go to the theatre once in a while, if that's more to your liking?"

"I do love the theatre," she poked him in the chest. "Theatre theatre and not movie theater."

"I have been known to enjoy a movie or two, subtitled even-"

"Impressive," Sharon mocked.

"But no, theatre, performing arts. You should come, we can show you all the best gay plays."

How did he know? How did he figure out that she wasn't all over the gay theatre, that she was out and had whole hoard of gay friends to go out with?

Perhaps her spooked expression gave her away. Perhaps she came across like a newbie.

She hated not knowing things. She hated not being good at what she was doing - even if it was being a lesbian.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Sharon gave him a slow nod. "I accept your invitation."

"Perfect," Jonathan smiled and glanced at his watch. "Well. I think I'll hit the road."

"You're going to drive to Palm Springs now?" She asked, incredulous.

"No time like the present. Gosh, he'll love the Armani watch I got for him..." He came closer and hugged her, surprisingly. "You take care and enjoy your time with your family."

Sharon hugged back, opening her eyes that she hadn't realized she had closed and glanced over his shoulder. She saw Brenda standing in that same corner still. Her husband was nowhere in sight.

The blonde stared right back at her.

Ha, Sharon thought, gloating inwardly, hoping Brenda knew now what it felt like to be on the outside for once.

"I'll see you when I see you," Jonathan let her go. "And call me."

Sharon smiled and watched him leave, saying his goodbyes to everyone. The brunette kept an eye on Brenda, watching her interact with Dr. Morales, smiling at him politely, shaking his hand, wishing him a merry christmas.

Before the blonde could catch her gaze again, Sharon had turned on her heel and wandered off. She needed a moment. The brunette strode down the hall and into the ladies room where she stopped in front of the mirrors again, staring at herself.

She felt like she looked different, somehow.

Sharon swallowed heavily; she traced the outline of her lips with her gaze and studied the wrinkles surrounding her eyes.

She felt lighter, somehow.

The door burst open at the very moment she had that revelation and Brenda swept in, scowling.

Sharon rolled her eyes and made for a stall, hoping to avoid whatever was coming - she never knew with Brenda.

"Now, hold on," the blonde drawled.

Sharon slowed down, despite herself and turned with a sigh. "Why are you following me?"

Brenda bit her lip, trying to hide a smirk. "I just wanted to see you before you left, is all."

"Really?" She didn't buy it, not one bit, and Brenda had to know, Sharon could tell from her innocent, wide-eyed expression. "What is the matter with you lately?"

"What do you mean?" The blonde almost screeched, hands on her hips and tapping her foot. "I could ask you the same thing," she added lamely. "On second thought, we all know what the matter is with you anyhow."

Sharon's jaw almost dropped. "That is a low blow if I have ever seen one."

"I'm sure Dr. Morales knows all about it now too. You wanna go and announce it over the speakers?"

"Now you're being intentionally perverse." Sharon put her hands on her hips as well. "Besides, whom I tell what is none of you business."

"It is my business if it does concern me-"

"It doesn't," Sharon retorted evenly.

"-it does! It so does! We're sleepin' together-"

"And that gives you any prerogative how?"

Brenda pursed her lips, closer than Sharon would like her - funny how the other woman always turned out to be her enemy - then her expression changed to a satisfied smirk that Sharon wished she could get rid of and bury, never to be seen again.

"How am I s'posed to know whether I'm the only one or not? You did get quite cozy with Detective Mendoza if I remember correctly."

That was it. Sharon took a deep breath, swallowing her initial reaction and turned around, unable to face the other woman. "Aren't those the questions your husband should be asking?"

"Fritz," Brenda said sharply. "His name is Fritz."

"Well then," Sharon turned back slowly. "Aren't those the questions Fritz should be asking? And why in the world are you following me into the restroom when out there are all your colleagues, your parents, your husband, Fritz? Why? Do you want to get caught?"

Brenda's shoulders dropped almost immediately, she looked defeated for the tiniest moment and it was that expression that remained in Sharon's mind when the blonde shoved her into the stall and up against the wall, her lips latched upon her own, warm and soft yet forceful.

"Because," Brenda's lips looked bruised. "Because sometimes I can't stand any of 'em."

Sharon blinked at the pitiful voice that made her heart ache yet annoyed her terribly.

"And because I won't be seein' you for the longest time and that just drives nuts."

The brunette sighed - she was too old for this, too smart and, honestly, had seen and heard worse.

"I just...I just need...you."

Sharon shook her head. "But why?"

Brenda said nothing, instead she just kissed her.

Brenda kissed her like she always did in the end, with a seemingly frantic hunger. Sharon often wondered what exactly went through the blonde's head, if Brenda, just like she did, vowed that it would be the last time, that she wouldn't be doing this again, that they would stop.

Because they would, wouldn't they? This time, for sure.

Or did she even care? Did the blonde not experience the struggle, the guilt over what they were doing?

Brenda bit her lip a little, Sharon could tell she wanted to really bite but didn't. There was always something nasty about the blonde, something mean and angry, as if a part of Brenda wanted to punish her.

Perhaps that was her conscience, the blonde had to have one, didn't she?

Sharon despised whatever it was; it reminded her of her own short-comings, her own responsibility in this, her own guilt but she had felt utterly powerless and paralyzed, deserving of whatever was coming her way.

No more though - the thought had repeatedly swirled about in her head. No more.

No time like the present.

She had come to a point where she had realized that this, that Brenda, wasn't something she needed, it had become something she wanted.

Should she feel worse for letting it go on despite that?

Sharon had asked herself countless times in recent days.

As the blonde wrapped her fingers around Sharon's wrist and pulled her hand from her hip down between her legs, she instinctively knew.

It felt great. It was what she was meant to be.

One last time, Sharon thought, also hoping that, once she was inside of her, making her come in the bathroom at the very place they worked at, she could safely say that they had broken even that last rule and it would make it easier to say goodbye.

But then Sharon remembered how all of this had started, how she had vowed to only admire from afar, how she had ended up proposing the woman, how she had ended up in front of her house and had sat there for almost an hour until her husband...until Agent Howard...Fritz...had left and had then proceeded to kiss the woman up against the counter.

They had ended up having sex after all and, topping it off, she had thrown caution to the wind and had invited her into her home.

They had broken all the rules and Sharon knew in the back of her mind that having sex in the women's bathroom wouldn't be the last grotesque and immoral thing they would end up doing.

It was never enough. There was always more.

"We can't do that here!" Sharon yanked her hand away. "Are you mentally ill? Have you gone completely insane?" She wasn't sure whom she was talking to, Brenda or herself but Sharon felt a weight lift off her shoulders as the words flew from her lips.

Brenda stilled, her gaze sweeping about the grey stall for a moment, taking in the cold tiles, the empty toilet paper roll, the rather unbecoming color of the lights. "Maybe I have," she whispered and wanted to lean forward against Sharon's shoulder but Sharon couldn't bear it.

Brenda didn't deserve a shoulder to lean on, in fact, she already had one which made this even more inappropriate.

Sharon felt a deeply rooted anger towards the woman and wanted to lash out but breezed out of the stall and toward the sinks instead. "This is exactly why we can't keep doing this." She stared at herself and Brenda in the mirror as she grabbed a paper towel. "We have to quit before we can't," she said and wiped at her smudged lipstick.

She was angry but she didn't yell, she seldom did and even though Brenda hadn't gotten it in the beginning, Sharon was pretty sure that she did now - she was always quiet when she was mad, perhaps one of the most prominent leftovers of her childhood.

"Your parents are out there." She narrowed her eyes a bit. "Your husband is out there." She stared at Brenda, looking for some sort of reaction which never came.

"You're right," the blonde said and stepped out of the stall, shaking her head a little.

Sharon wanted to be a bitch and bring up her precious Daddy, just to get some sort of emotion out of her but Miss Atlanta was, if anything, a great liar, and whatever she was trying to hide behind her mask, Sharon wanted to belief that it was best not to know.

"Okay, well, we'll go back to how things were before all this."

"You mean open hostility, bitch fights and temper tantrums; the last of which clearly concerns only one of us." Sharon lifted an eyebrow then rolled her eyes a little at the blonde's glare. "After all, you're now my friend Brenda."

"Very funny," the blonde retorted, "and all those stories my Mama's told you? None of 'em are true."

"I'm sure," Sharon said with one of her put on smiles. "Then let's go out there and pretend that we've never seen each other naked."

Brenda's face fell a little, it was almost comical. She watched Sharon for a moment and the brunette allowed it, just this once, even though she despised scrutiny, ironically enough.

"Your family's lovely." She said and knew the blonde hadn't expected that. "Your husband..." Sharon swallowed. "Fritz...is wonderful. He loves you and supports you no matter what you do."

"What's this," Brenda interjected.

"What now?"

"I dunno." The blonde shook her head, coming closer. "I don't know what you want from me."

Sharon blinked slowly, her eyes darting around the room then she tilted her head a little. "Nothing."

"Nothin'?"

"It's over." Sharon felt the whole impact of her words only when she witnessed true emotion pass over Brenda's face.

Disappointment, a moment of panic and, before she could divulge any more, a pleasant expression took over.

"Alright," she said with a smile. "Fine."

"Great," Sharon responded enthusiastically. "Fantastic." The brunette released a large breath and walked to the door, her heels clicking on the tiled floor. "I'll see you out there." She needed to leave.

"Yes...see you out there, Sharon...I mean, Cap'n Raydor."

Sharon smirked, amused slightly and calmed by the sudden feeling that she had done the right thing.

"Merry Christmas, Brenda."

She gave the blonde a smile, relieved yet weak in the knees.

But Brenda smiled back.

"Merry Christmas..."

THE END

Author's Note:

Yes, you're reading correctly - the end. I have decided to end Laws of Attraction here, it is just getting too big and, honestly, I just fancy writing something new. Now, the story doesn't end here, I can promise you that. I'm writing a sequel.

I have never written anything this long and I have never written anything that brought me as much joy as this. I want to thank everyone, all of you, for commenting, for reading, for sticking with it, for giving it a chance. **tayryn,** thank you for pimping this fiction as much as you did, for your support and all the awesome reviews. **fireflies_uk,** I thank you the **mostest**, you listened to me moan, you sat in silence while I wrote, which I think must be the most boring thing ever, you read every line, were my sounding board and never complained. You are the best.

Anyway. Thanks again, all you guys, and I'll see you soon with a sequel.


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